Destined To Be
by georgiehuzzah
Summary: "I never believed in fate, you know. The whole idea of something other-worldly controlling my decisions just seemed stupid. But then, I met you, and it was like I wasn't allowed to ignore you. Like someone or something up there wanted us to meet and they weren't going to stop at anything to make sure that happened." A Klaine AU.
1. Chapter One

Kurt is fed up.

He's been searching for Christmas presents for Sam's little brother and sister for at least two hours now, and Lima is getting busier and busier as it approaches midday. He really can't bear the thought of entering another horrifically packed-to-the-brim toy shop.

It is Christmastime after all.

Why did I volunteer for this? Never again.

Reluctantly, Kurt hops onto the escalator and contemplates leaving it for today when he spots yet another kid's shop, named WhizzToys. There are people dressed as characters from Toy Story outside the door, posing for photos with far too eager parents and their oblivious toddlers. Every now and then, a mother will drag her horrified looking teenager into the shot, and in return will earn a look that could kill. It is quite humorous, actually. Kurt chuckles at the scene in front of him, and braces himself before he walks in.

If there's nothing of a reasonable quality or price in here, I'm going home. I'll have to get Mercedes or Rachel to do it; I can't possibly look at any more My Little Pony dress-up sets or Transformers Lego. The price of some-

Kurt is pulled out of his rambling thoughts abruptly when one of the workers catches his eye as he walks in. The guy, who must be about the same age as Kurt, is wearing a Santa hat and red apron over the top of a cream crew neck jumper with red and black stripes at the top of each sleeve. His eyes are big and brown; Kurt can tell that from a distance. But Lord, his smile. It's flashed at every customer and then to the people working either side of him, who laugh, presumably at a joke he'd told. Kurt internally cusses when he realizes he is stood right next to the entrance, staring. He's pretty sure his mouth is hanging open slightly, too.

Focus, Kurt. Presents.

He spots a small stand at the end of the third aisle, selling off last season's best gifts at half price. A giant sign above his head tells him that it is opening weekend, giving him an extra 30% off. Excusing his way through parents and young children, he picks out two gifts for Sam's brother and two for his sister, cradling them in his arm as he makes his way over to the queue. It moves surprisingly quickly, and Kurt notes that brown-eyed big-smile guy is working at till three when he reaches the first place in line.

"Checkout number 3 please," the mechanical voice booms.

With a feeling of urgency that he hasn't experienced all day, Kurt hurries forward. Clumsily, he lets go of the toys onto the desk, and glances up.

Holy mother of-

"Hey there!"

Breathe Kurt, breathe.

The guy is even more attractive up close. Little curls of brown escape from the hem of the Santa hat, and Kurt wishes it wasn't covering the rest of his hair so much. Plus, he has really nice shoulders.

Kurt, what are you talking about? Shoulders? Maybe you've had too much coffee.

"H-hi." Kurt's voice is scratchy, so he coughs. As he does so, he notices the name tag.

Hi! I'm Blaine and I'm happy to help.

Blaine.

Blaine is a good name. Kurt likes it.

"So, are these for you?" the guy-Blaine, says, smirking a little.

He wants to talk. Talk to him, Kurt.

"No, they're for my friends little brother and sister. I've been shopping for hours; you wouldn't believe how busy it is everywhere!"

"Oh don't worry, I do! We've only just opened. I've only been working for a few days and I've never seen queues so long. It's kinda crazy." He smiles wide, and Kurt's heart flutters.

"That's, um, yeah, I get why, with it being Christmas and all that." Inside, Kurt's mind is yelling. Ask him something not related to the store! Doitdoitdoit. "The weather's really bizarre too. One moment it's sunny and the next it's snowing."

WEATHER KURT. REALLY? That's all you could come up with? Dummy.

"Ha-ha, I guess it is," he replies whilst laughing, placing Kurt's items into a bag.

Damn, Kurt thinks, I've totally blew it now.

"That'll be twenty-eight dollars and sixty-seven cents, please." As Kurt pulls out his wallet, he notices Blaine writing something down.

"Sure," Kurt says, handing over thirty dollars. He makes sure that his and Blaine's hands don't touch because doesn't want to completely melt on the floor. Blaine keyes something into the machine and places Kurt's money inside the till.

"Do you want a freebie bag?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you wanted one of these goodie bag things. They've got crayons, some Lego key rings, a bracelet and some discount code or something like that. They're a limited time offer I think, just for this weekend." Blaine looks expectantly into Kurt's eyes, and Kurt forgets how to breathe for a second.

"Um, sure, whatever." Kurt is pretty sure Blaine could ask him to pay for some dog poop and Kurt would oblige. He's good at sales.

No, it's just that you like him.

"Great! I mean, you could give it to one of the kids or keep it yourself, the bracelets are pretty freaking awesome." Blaine chuckles, and Kurt realizes he really likes the sound of his laugh. He doesn't know what else to say, so he laughs along. Suddenly, he finds he can't stop. He looks over to Blaine, who is in the same predicament. They giggle like teenage school girls for a few solid minutes, constantly setting each other off just as they start to recover.

Eventually, the two of them settle down, Kurt on the brink of laughter tears and Blaine rubbing his slightly stubbled cheeks, trying to stop them from being in such a huge grin.

"Ahhh, I'll give that to you then," he speaks, a hint of laughter still in his voice as he passes the change from the purchase over to Kurt. He, however, isn't as bothered about contact as Kurt, and places the coins into his outstretched hand, lingering longer than Kurt thinks he should. I'm not complaining. "Here's your bag, the receipt is in with the toys and yeah, I guess that's it."

"Well, thanks," Kurt murmurs, unsure of what to do.

"No problem. Come back soon!" Kurt is almost positive he blushes bright pink. He picks up his items and walks towards the door. At the last minute, he turns his head back to look at Blaine, who happens to be staring straight at him. Blaine's eyes meet his, and then snap straight to the person walking toward his till.

Kurt exhales deeply and carries on walking. He has definitely chosen the right time to get out of Lima, as the streets are getting alarmingly full, with cars circling the lot in desperation, trying to find any parking space available. He quickens his pace and dumps the bags on the passenger seat of his Navigator. In the rear view mirror, Kurt sees a car start flashing its turn sign, obviously claiming his space.

Once he is buckled in and ready to go, for a reason he doesn't understand, Kurt reaches over to the freebie bag and starts looking through it. There are, sure enough, some crayons and Lego bits, a bracelet and a discount voucher that is in fact a limited offer, and a note. A note. Kurt pulls the folded-up piece of blue paper out, and notices that his hands are shaking. It is probably nothing, just a piece of rubbish or a promotional flyer or something. Just open it, Kurt.

Kurt's breathing hitches when he sees a plain piece of paper with a single line of black handwriting across the center.

I like your sweater – Blaine (:

WHAT.

Kurt's brain spirals headfirst into overdrive. He likes Kurt's sweater. He likes Kurt's sweater. **Blaine, handsome cute adorable ball-of-fluffy-Christmassy-ness Blaine, likes Kurt's sweater. **He had put his name on there too, and a smiley face.

From behind him, the car waiting for his space beeps their horn.

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Kurt says to himself as he puts the bag back onto the passenger side seat. He places the note in his lap and pulls out of the parking lot, a wide smile gracing his features.

Blaine likes his sweater. Maybe Blaine likes him.


	2. Chapter Two

Kurt drives home with a huge grin plastered on his face, and there is absolutely no doubt in his mind as to why it's there. Even the horrendous traffic and arrogant drivers don't cause him to clench the steering wheel in complete frustration as he usually would. He's arranged to wrap presents with Rachel at her house tomorrow, and for a moment he contemplates going there now, but decides against it. He's got homework to do and Rachel's presents to wrap, and he has to figure out what he's going to do about this Blaine guy who he kinda really likes. He might not even be gay.

But he flirted with you, Kurt.

Maybe it was just playful customer-worker banter, maybe it was more than that. Kurt figures that if he spends much more time trying to analyze everything that happened in that shop, his brain is going to explode. He decides to try and not think about it until he's slept. Shopping really takes it out of you.

Kurt does his homework and wraps Rachel's presents (a purple-and-pink chunky knit scarf, a star-shaped chocolate with Born to Be a Star iced on top (because he couldn't resist), and Barbra Streisand: The Concerts DVD) with a completely non-existent level of enthusiasm and a sense of confusion about everything. Every time he looks out the window, his thoughts drift to the conversation he had with Blaine about the weather. Every time someone touches his hand, it burns hot and he remembers feeling Blaine's smooth skin on his. It's because you like him. His dad asks him if he wants tomato pasta or salad with his chicken and it takes him three minutes just to figure out what he's been asked.

"Kurt, you alright buddy?" Burt's tone is questioning, but not prying.

"Oh, yeah, fine. 'm just tired, 's'all."

"You sure?" he says, patting his son on the shoulder.

"Yeah, thanks dad."

"So, pasta or salad?"

"I don't mind, either," Kurt answers as he gets up to walk back into his bedroom. He sits on his bed, and crosses his legs underneath him.

Soft music comes out of his speakers as he presses play on his remote control, and he stares at the wall as song after song reverberate around the room. After some time, he puts his head on the pillow and hums softly to himself.

* * *

"Kurt! Dinner's on the ta-. Oh." Finn stops abruptly as he sees Kurt lying on top of his bed, fully-clothed and fast asleep. "Burt, we got a problem."

Burt comes walking into the room, and stops just behind Finn. "Oh yeah, we do."

"Should we wake him up?" Burt shakes his head quickly, and starts to back out of the room with hands on Finn's arms.

"No, he's exhausted, let him sleep. We'll keep his food in the oven and he can have it later." They give each other a quick glance before pulling the door closed behind them. Burt gets Carole to write a note and leave it on the table for Kurt so he knows where to find the food when he wakes up.

He isn't surprised at all when he wakes the next morning to find the note untouched and all of Kurt's food still intact.

* * *

Kurt wakes up and immediately knows there's something off. He wipes his eyes, and realizes he's still in his jumper from yesterday, and his pants and socks. Ew. He slept in socks. The note that Blaine wrote him was left on his bedside cabinet: the first thing he sees when he turns his head to find out the time. Pushing the thought away, Kurt undresses and practically runs to the shower in his bathrobe. He spends a few minutes just standing under the hot spray, getting his thoughts together, thoughts about Blaine. From the moment he woke up, Blaine's been circling his mind and it's driving him completely nuts. There's nothing going on here, Kurt. Get over it.

Once he's clean and dressed with his hair done, Kurt starts packing up his presents and wrapping paper to take to Rachel's house. On a whim, he grabs the note and puts it in his pocket. God only knows why.

"Hey Kurt." The voice causes him to spin quickly to see his dad stood in the doorway.

"Oh, hi. You scared me," Kurt says, chuckling.

"Sorry buddy, didn't mean to."

"No problem."

"You get enough sleep last night?" Kurt visibly cringes.

"I'm sorry, dad. I just lay down and the next thing I know, I wake up still dressed."

"That's okay, Kurt, we all get tired. I just wanted to check you were alright, that's all." For a second, Kurt contemplates telling Burt about Blaine, but very quickly decides that no, it's not the right time, and what is there to tell anyway? Hi dad, I met a cute guy at the toy store yesterday and I can't stop thinking about him. Yeah, sounds great.

"I'm better now, thank you. I'm heading over to Rachel's soon, so I guess I'll see you later." Kurt hates having to resort to effectively telling his dad to leave him alone, but he just can't make sense of anything right now and even his dad can't change that.

"Oh, okay. Have a good time," Burt says, his voice devoid of emotion as he steps out of the room.

"Bye." Kurt finishes packing his things and makes a quick exit from the house. Everything feels uncomfortable and there's no point in hanging around anyway.

* * *

Kurt tries four different radio stations before he gets annoyed because all the songs are too poppy and monotonous. Eventually, he decides to just drive in silence. He gets to Rachel's house at exactly 11am, and kicks his feet against each other as he waits for her to get the door. The note in his pocket feels like it's screaming at him to be acknowledged. He pushes the thought to the back of his head as he grins brightly at Mr. Berry and hugs Rachel.

"Let's go wrap, Kurt!" Ah, Rachel's over-enthusiasm at everything never fails to amaze Kurt. The pair leaves Rachel's dad in peace, and start wrapping up presents in her room.

After about an hour has passed with almost no laughter from either party, Rachel pulls all the presents away from Kurt, and stands up.

"What're you doing?" Kurt sighs.

"What's wrong with you today?" Her voice is questioning but not mean.

"Nothing, just a little tired I guess."

"Don't pull that one on me. Tell me," she says, walking towards Kurt. "Is it a guy?"

"No."

"Right, that was far too quick and far too abrupt to be the truth."

"You're wrong, Rachel," Kurt murmurs.

"No, I'm not. Who is it?"

"I'm just being stupid, it's probably nothing at all and I'm probably overreacting as usual because-"

"Kurt Hummel! If you don't spill your dirty gossip now I will not be responsible for my actions." Kurt laughs, and huffs loudly.

"Fine. Okay, it was a guy who works at the toy shop I got the presents from. He was really cute and I think we flirted a little bit, maybe a lot, and he said come back soon and wrote me a note and-"

"Wrote you a note? Let me see it!" Rachel was knelt beside Kurt now, pawing at his arm like an impatient child. Oh wait. She is an impatient child.

"I don't have it," Kurt lied.

"Yes, you do. I know you too well, Hummel."

"Fine. Whatever, you win." Kurt pulls the paper from his pocket and hands it to Rachel. Her eyes dart quickly across the single line, and then up and straight into Kurt's.

"You should totally take mystery-cashier-guy up on his offer, Kurt." Kurt frowns, and Rachel explains.

"He said 'come back soon', right? So go back! Besides, we're out of paper." Rachel grabs the remaining sheets of wrapping paper and tears them up, sprinkling them onto the floor. "GO!"

Kurt shakes his head. "Nope. Nuh-uh, Berry."

"Whyyyyyy? We need paper," Rachel says defiantly, nodding her head in an exaggerated manner.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

"Fine. Fine, you win, again. I'll go get some more wrapping paper and say hi to Mister Cute-Guy, just because you say so." Rachel squeals, and hugs Kurt.

"Good luck!"

Kurt stands up, grabs his keys and starts to pull out of the Berry household's drive when he spots the discount voucher lying on the floor of the passenger side. Perfect.

Rachel really was a genius sometimes.

Sundays were decidedly less congested than Saturdays. Kurt parks quickly and without having to queue, then makes his way over to the toy store, clutching the half-off flyer in his hands. His palms are sweating and his heart has sped up, and God, this is so stupid. Blaine doesn't even know Kurt's name. Still, Kurt has nothing to lose.

He walks in hesitantly, and dares to sneak a look over at the tills to find nothing. There's a girl serving a man, and two workers deep in conversation behind her, but no Blaine. Kurt hides the disappointment he feels by practically running down the nearest aisle. He catches his breath, and exhales loudly. There are only a few people in here, what with it being Sunday and all, so unless Blaine's in the store room, Kurt came for nothing.

Well, he came for paper. No, you didn't really come for that.

He gives it a few more minutes of unsuccessful searching before slowly walking over to the tills. He goes straight through to the girl he saw earlier.

"How can I help you?" She's pretty, Kurt has to admit that. Tanned skin and jet-black hair, matched with a red apron (everyone wears them in here, apparently) and reindeer ears on a headband.

"Oh yeah, hi. Um, could I have three sheets of the red wrapping paper, please." Kurt looks up and down the aisle for any sign of Blaine, but there's nothing. He starts playing with the voucher in his hand, and won't admit that his heart sinks a little bit.

"You looking for someone?" Someone, not something? Weird. Kurt glances back at her, but she's turned around, rolling the wrapping paper into tubes.

"Oh, um, no, well, I guess- yeah, the guy who served me yesterday." No point in lying. Kurt's awful at it anyway. Blaine could be here somewhere, and he would lov- really like to see him again.

Santana smiles as she takes Kurt's money. "Would that be Blaine?" Kurt's breath catches in his throat, and he nods slowly, unsure of why she would know. "He doesn't work Sundays, sorry. It seems to be the only day he's not here, actually." Damn it. Only Kurt's luck would do that. She stops to ponder before continuing. "I'll tell him you stopped by. That's eleven dollars, ninety-nine cents please."

"No, that's alright, but thanks anyway." Kurt hands over the money with his discount code, internally cursing himself for not having another excuse to come back now.

"I'll tell you what, how 'bouts you tell me your name and I'll let Blainers know you came by to see him, 'kay?" Kurt frowns. Oh, what the hell, he's got nothing to lose.

"Uh, I'm Kurt."

"That's better." Kurt looks down to find out the girl's name, but she doesn't have a name tag on. Unfortunately, it hasn't gone without noticing.

"Now, either you're checking out my rack, or you wanna know what my name is. I'm gonna guess the latter." Kurt's taken aback by her abruptness, and grits his teeth together. "Well, I'm Santana," she says, acting as if nothing had happened. She glances down, then adds, "Blaine's friend."

She passes the change to Kurt, and smiles in a way that she hasn't yet. It seems more than just a customer-worker smile, more like Kurt is her friend. How strange. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon, Kurt." Her tone has an underlying hint of something Kurt can't quite put his finger on. He nods, speechless.

"Thanks, I guess." Quietly, he walks out of the door and heads to his car. Lima, thankfully, isn't nearly as busy today, so he gets into the driver's side and sits for a moment, not moving.

What is he doing? Giving his name to a stranger who spoke to him like he was a friend (or an enemy, even) and hoping she'd pass it on? Complete craziness.

With a deep breath in, Kurt decides that all these internal conflicts aren't getting him anywhere. He opens his phone and rings Rachel. She picks up almost immediately. Knowing her, she'd been sat on the bed staring at her phone the whole time, probably without moving.

"Rach, I got the paper."

"You know I'm not bothered about that. Was he there?" Her voice increases in pitch as she speaks.

"No, he wasn't. Doesn't work Sundays, apparently." Unfortunately, Kurt can't mask his disappointment.

"Oh honey. How do you know he doesn't work today?"

"His friend who works there told me."

"She knew who you were?" Rachel sounds more and more like an overexcited puppy with every word.

"Kinda, I guess. Yeah."

"You know what that means, don't you?"

"No…" he trails off.

"He spoke to her about you, silly!"

"Really? You think so?"

"I practically know so, Kurt."

"Oh." Kurt is left speechless. It would make sense, he figures. Santana asking him if he was looking for someone, her need to tell Blaine he came by, saying that she was sure she'd be seeing him soon. Holy mother of all things weird and wonderful. "Yeah, maybe he did."

"EEEEEEEE! Why don't you pick us some coffee up and we can talk about this more when you get back?"

Kurt likes the way Rachel thinks sometimes.

"Okay, I will. See you soon," he says as he gets out of his car.

"Bye!" Kurt hangs up and heads to the nearest coffee shop, called Cafetière. He hasn't been in there before, but it looks quite nice, so Kurt pushes the door open and looks over to the queue. His heart stops beating for a second as his eyes run over the person serving.

Right behind the far end of the counter, serving a young girl and her mother with that smile, is one Blaine Toy-Shop-Worker-and-Cutie-Extraordinaire.

Yes, Kurt definitely likes the way Rachel thinks.


	3. Chapter Three

A huge grin appears on Kurt's face. He's ridiculously happy to see Blaine again, for reasons he can't quite explain. This guy might just be really good with customers, and maybe Santana knows because she'd overheard their conversation, or maybe he is just really, really nice. Kurt hates that he over-reacts at everything; he always seems to take something little and turn it into something so much more. If he lets himself get carried away with Blaine, it will only end up hurting him.

Friends.

If he wants to be anything with you, let it be friends.

Kurt won't say he is scared of being hurt, more like insanely terrified. He knows how quickly he can get attached to someone, and if they make him happy, that would be all that matters. He'd spend all of his time trying to impress that person and trying to make his love a fairy tale, and he just knows he would base all his happiness on them.

What if they left?

If they left, Kurt's happiness would undoubtedly go with them. He'd be devastated and he doesn't think he would be able to survive that. He certainly knows his frown lines wouldn't be able to endure mass heartbreak at such a tender age.

Don't overcomplicate this, Kurt. Keep it simple, natural and **as friends**.

With a fully formulated plan of how he is going to make an actual friend outside of school, Kurt strides up to the line and pulls out his wallet. This time, Blaine is wearing a chunky knit navy sweater and really adorable red velvet pants. He's actually kinda short, Kurt realizes. Cute.

As the guy in front of him gets served, Kurt notices that Blaine was still serving someone else. He hasn't finished yet, so another worker grins brightly at Kurt and says, "Hi there, what would you like?" Before Kurt can even open his mouth, Blaine's eyes lock onto his. He smiles (what an adorable smile he has), and walks briskly towards Kurt's server.

"I've got this one. Can you finish off the lady over there please? 7.40, double espresso and cookie." Blaine keeps his eyes on Kurt, smiling widely the whole time. He steps in front of the woman who was supposed to be serving Kurt, and grabs a cup from the side.

"Blaine, what are you doing?" The woman sounds (and looks) rather annoyed.

"I'm serving this guy, Jen. Please," he pleads, breaking eye contact with Kurt to flutter his eyelashes at the woman, apparently called Jen.

"Oh, whatever Blaine. You serve him, but you totally owe me." Blaine nods.

"Sure, I'll clean up later for free." Kurt just realizes that Blaine had made a deal to clean up for free, just to make him coffee. This is crazy.

"Deal." The woman-Jen, walks to the till as Blaine speaks.

"Hello again, how can I help?" he says in a cheesy voice, laughing.

"Can I have a non-fat mocha please?" He speaks slowly, trying to mentally process what had just happened.

"Sure you can," Blaine chirps, spinning around to set the coffee machine in action.

Now or never, Kurt.

"So you work here too?" Blaine nods, mixing the ingredients together. "Santana said that-" WHOOPS. Kurt had just told Blaine that he'd met Santana, uh-oh.

"You met Santana? I apologize for her behaviour if you did," Blaine chuckles.

"Yeah, I went to get some wrapping paper 'cause I ran out. I used that discount voucher thing you gave me."

"Oh yeah, that. Glad it could be of use. Is this to go?" Kurt takes a deep breath in, and then starts his plan.

"No. I'm gonna sit in, I think."

Stage one, check. Stage two is go.

"I, um, I got your note. It er, it made me smile. A lot." He can almost see the embarrassment pouring off himself.

Blaine looks at Kurt as he mixes. Kurt catches a glimpse of Blaine's cheeks getting redder, and squeezes his hands into balls at his sides. Why was he blushing?

"Good, I'm glad. I really like making people smile." Kurt's face fell very quickly. Stupid you, getting your hopes up for nothing, again.

"Wow, your manager must be really happy with you. I bet you're employee of the month already!" His tone is bitter and he hates that, but damn, Kurt thought he was a decent guy and this is just typical.

"What do you mean?" Blaine's voice is quiet.

"Writing notes for everyone, best customer service I've ever seen!" He is getting quite wound up now, but he doesn't want it to be like this. What is he doing? This wasn't part of the make-Blaine-your-friend mission. SHUT UP KURT!

"What?" Blaine's eyebrows knit together, until realization falls on his face. "No! I don't write notes for everyone, you're the only one! I just meant that I like it when people smile because of something I did, not that I write compliments to every customer." Blaine looks down, and smiles. He stares right into Kurt's eyes for a second, before turning his attention back to the coffee. "You're the only one, I swear. Unfortunately, not everyone has such a good taste in fashion as you." Kurt almost kicks himself right there and then.

"Oh god, I'm sorry! I just thought, y'know, with the, just, I, I don't know what I thought." Kurt realizes that he's not good at this. He can't seem to be able to stop being paranoid when it comes to other people, and that's something about himself he'd really like to change. Idiot. "And thank you, no one has ever said that to me before."

"No, it's okay. I guess it's not every day that you get something like that; it's normal to be sceptical." Blaine chuckles and Kurt realizes just how much he likes his laugh. "No one's ever complimented your sweater before? Really? I think you were totally rocking it. I wish I could pull one of them off as well as you."

"Why, thank you Blaine." Kurt says his name in front of him for the first time, and it sounds so much nicer out loud than it does in his head.

"No need to thank me, the pleasure's all mine." Blaine places the mug onto a plate with a napkin, and looks up at Kurt. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, that's it, thank you."

"Great. That's two dollars." Kurt looks up at the pricing board above him. His coffee is supposed to be four dollars. What?

"I think you got the pricing wrong…"

"Nope, stalker discount!" Blaine grins widely.

"Wait, what? I'm not stalking you, I swear! I just came for coffee and you were here and-"

"Calm down! I'm only joking, don't worry. Besides, this has been the highlight of my day and you get my own special discount for wearing Christmas sweaters better than anyone I've ever seen. So, two dollars." Is this guy for real? He's so sweet and funny and adorable that it makes Kurt want to sit by an open fire singing Christmas carols for hours on end. Instead, he just laughs.

"That's- -great-. Thank- -you," he manages to say between bouts of laughter, handing over the exact change.

"Well, enjoy your coffee," Blaine says, smiling. One day that smile will kill me.

"I will, thank you very much." Blaine hands the cup over the counter to Kurt, and he sucks in a deep breath as their fingers touch. He quickly pulls his hand (and the coffee cup) away, and heads to a seat in a far corner.

Holy cow.

Kurt doesn't think the situation could get any more peculiar, but he definitely isn't complaining. He takes a sip of one of the best mochas he's ever had, and sets about writing a note for Blaine.

**Here's some money, have a coffee on me. There's a seat waiting here with your name on it.**

**I'm Kurt.**

**(:**

Kurt stares at the note for a good few minutes, trying to determine whether it was too flirty or too friendly or just too anything, really.

Eventually, he realizes that the more time he spends over-thinking things, the less time he'd get talking to Blaine.

Here goes nothing.

Kurt stands up, note in hand, and grabs some money from his wallet. He joins the back of the line, and smiles when he arrives at the front, noticing that Blaine had blown off another customer to serve him again. Must be a habit.

"I think you gave me the wrong change," Kurt says, placing the note and the money on the countertop.

"But you didn't need any change…" Kurt starts walking away, smiling to himself as he does so. He quickly gets to his seat, and forces himself not to look back at the counter.

After a good few minutes of agonizing waiting, Kurt hears footsteps approaching his table. Hesitantly, he pulls his eyes away from his phone and sees Blaine stood behind the chair opposite to Kurt's, holding a cup in one hand and a folded piece of paper in the other, which looks suspiciously like Kurt's note.

"Kurt," Blaine speaks quietly. "Kurt," he repeats louder, almost as if he's testing the name out.

"Yeah, that's me. Please, sit." You sound so formal. Blaine nods, and places his coffee and note onto the table before pulling the chair out and sitting down.

"So, what do you drink?" Kurt asks, locking his phone.

"Huh?" Blaine replies in between sips of his drink. "Oh! I'd never had a mocha before, so I went with one of them. Usually, it's a medium drip." Kurt smiles. "Mocha's good; a tad too sweet for me, I think." He places his empty cup onto the table and leans back slightly, placing his hands into his lap.

"Gosh, you drank that quickly! How is your mouth not on fire right now?" Blaine smiles that adorable grin again, and Kurt melts inside.

Stop it. Friends, Kurt. Friends.

"I have so much milk in my drinks, it's not real. Perks of being a barrister, I guess. Besides, I can't be letting my sloppy slurping hinder my superior conversational skills now, can I?" Kurt snickers as he takes sips from his red-hot drink.

"Barrister? Hinder my superior conversational skills? I'm pretty sure I asked for coffee with Blaine, not a dictionary."

"Oh. Sorry." He sounds hurt. IDIOT.

"No no no, I don't mean it like that! It's just odd to talk to someone who is capable of using words over two syllables long, that's all. Trust me, I'm in awe." He smiles, and Kurt realizes that he wants to see that smile as much as possible.

"I see. Your school full of idio-, less than articulate people?"

"Nah, my school's full of idiots. Close-minded thugs who don't understand the concept of acceptance. There are a few decent people, but I meana few." Kurt smiles as he thinks of Rachel. She could wait for her coffee. There were more important things happening right now.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He sounds kinda nostalgic. "Which school do you go to?"

"Er, McKinley, William McKinley High School. You?"

"I'm at Dalton."

Dalton. Expensive, all-academic, all-blazered, all boy-ed Dalton.

"As in the private school?" Kurt can hardly believe his ears.

"As in the private school," Blaine says, nodding. "Yeah, my parents, well, they're not short of cash, put it that way."

Oh.

Wait.

If his parents were rich, why on Earth did he have two jobs?

"That's," Kurt pauses, trying to think of a suitable word. "That's awesome." AWESOME? Karofsky's stupid must be rubbing off on me.

"Not really," Blaine says quietly. Kurt sensed there was more to it than he let on, but didn't want to push him.

"Have you been to public school?"

"Yeah, I have. I've only been at Dalton for a year. I should be in my senior year but I'm-, um, yeah, I've been to public school." He starts playing with the sleeve of his cardigan, twisting it over his thumb repeatedly. There's something he definitely isn't saying, but Kurt leaves it alone. If he doesn't want to tell him, he isn't going to push it. Just as Kurt suspected, he changes the subject. "How do you find McKinley?"

How did Kurt find McKinley? How did Kurt find McKinley? How. Did. Kurt. Hummel. Find. McKinley. High. School.

"I'm sensing you don't like it all that much."

Your senses are very right.

"You could say that, yeah. Can I tell you something?" Kurt takes a deep breath in as Blaine nods.

"Sure, go ahead." Just say it, Kurt. He has to know.

"I'm gay." Blaine's expression doesn't change. For whatever reason, it makes a lump appear in Kurt's throat. He quickly swallows it down and continues. "The people at my school, they aren't very nice, and well, they don't like me. It's hard sometimes." He looks down at his hands and plays with the buttons on his coat. "A lot of the time." He coughs, stifling a sob. Why was he on the brink of tears?

"I'm sorry, Kurt. Bullying is really awful and I'm sorry that you have to go through that. Just remember that they are the people in the wrong here, not you. Prejudice is just ignorance, Kurt."

"That's, that's the greatest thing anyone's ever said to me. I-I, thank you." Blaine nods, and looks into Kurt's eyes.

"Can I tell you something?" Kurt nods. "I'm gay too. Just not fully out, yet."

Kurt swears time stands still. He is gay, and so is Kurt and ohmygod.

"That's, that's awesome."

"I think you like that word, a lot. More than you would care to admit." He pauses. "And yeah. I don't tell people that often, at all really. I just wanted to let you know that you're not alone. There's always somewhere there, even if it is a guy from the toy store, who also works at the coffee shop." Kurt's practically a puddle on the floor.

"Thank you, Blaine." He looks up as he continues. "One question: If you go to Dalton, which I know is high on extra-curriculars and you can afford the tuition, why are you working here and at the toy store? I don't even have a job, let alone two!"

"Well technically I have three jobs. I babysit too." He says it completely apathetically, as if it's entirely normal.

"Oh. My. God." Kurt breathes slowly.

"What? I like being around people. Plus, I get to see a lot of happiness." He looks at Kurt, and sniggeres. "Whether it's 'cause I've just sold them their favourite toy, or made them a coffee or looked after their screaming kids for a few hours, people tend to be quite smiley. As I said before, I like making people smile."

DAAAAAAMN.

Could he get any more amazing?

"Well, I guess that's fair enough. But three jobs? That's pretty impressive."

Blaine glances down and his voice changes slightly. "Trust me; you would not think that if you saw me at night time, completely useless to anyone because I'm so tired."

"Still, you have a right to be exhausted after all of your extortionate labour."

"Hello there, Mister Dictionary," Blaine says through giggles, and Kurt quickly joins in. Soon enough, they're stuck in the awkward predicament of nearly wetting themselves with laughter and being completely unable to do anything about it.

"Breathe, Kurt, breathe," Kurt chants, desperately trying to stop himself. Blaine licks his lips and takes a deep breath in.

"Aaaaahhhh, that was fun." Kurt manages to calm himself down again enough to speak.

"Yeah, it was. Surprised you didn't say awesome though." Kurt scowls and shakes his head, but he can't hold back the smile. "We always seem to have these insane laughter sessions." Kurt realizes that they've only met twice so far: the toy store and now here. Why does he feel so attached to this guy?

"That's true, we do." Blaine puts his hands on the table, and sighs.

"Thank you for the coffee, Kurt." He said your name again. He said your name like no one has ever said your name before. It sounds a million times better coming out of his mouth. "That was a lovely thing to do, I appreciate it." Kurt looks into his eyes, and finds himself drawn in. He knows that he has to get back to Rachel, because one, she wants coffee and two, they still have presents to wrap; hell if he doesn't want to stay here with Blaine and just talk about everything and nothing all at the same time.

"You don't have to thank me; I needed an excuse to talk to you for more than three minutes at a time." Blaine's smile widens and Kurt doesn't know how that's possible.

"But still, thank you. I enjoyed talking to you, Kurt. It was awesome," he laughs, mocking Kurt's use of the word.

"Hey! Only I get to mock me, Blaine," he retorts, giggling as he does so.

"Sure, sure," Blaine replies, nodding over-exaggeratedly.

"I need another coffee before I go, sorry to be a pain," Kurt says as he stands up, putting his phone into his pocket.

"Not at all! What do you need?" Blaine takes both cups in his hand and leads Kurt over to the empty counter.

"A cappuccino with milk to go, please."

"Coming right up." Blaine set about making the coffee as Kurt pulls more money out of his wallet. He was going to be completely bankrupt if he carried on like this. Just as Kurt found the right change, he realizes that Blaine was taking a lot longer than he had done earlier. Suddenly, Blaine was back with a coffee cup in his hand, taking Kurt's money.

"Well, enjoy the rest of your Sunday, Kurt. And thanks for the coffee, it made my day." He passes the cup over, smiling.

"No problem at all. Enjoy cleaning."

"Ugh," Blaine groans. "Coffee with you is definitely worth cleaning up some cups for."

Kurt grins. "Have an awesome day, Blaine," he says as he leaves the counter. He glances back as he reaches the door, and Blaine smiles as he waves. Kurt waves back with his free hand, and makes his way back to his car.

Once he is belted and about to drive off, Kurt notices a black squiggle on the side of the coffee cup. How had he not seen that before? He reaches over, and picks the cup up, squinting to read the writing.

**Call me if you ever need to talk. Awesome coat. Blaine. (:**

Underneath the scrawl was a mobile number. Ohmygod. Ohmygod. Ohmygod.

Kurt fishes his phone out of his pocket and quickly enters the number under 'Awesome Blaine'. He sits for a moment, wondering how on Earth this has happened. He has been given the mobile number and offer of conversation whenever from a really lovely and cute guy who he'd met (well, been served by) in a mad Christmas shopping spree.

There is only one word that comes to the front of Kurt's mind.

Awesome.


	4. Chapter Four

"Rachel, Rachel!" Kurt had drove home quickly (but safely, of course) to tell Rachel what had happened in his new found favorite coffee shop. "Oh, hi Mr. Berry," Kurt says, nodding at the older man. He holds the coffee cup with Blaine's number on in his hand, and every time he looks down, he feels a smile spreading across his face because there, there was the start of a friendship. Kurt could feel that this is the start of something good, something worth holding on to.

"Please, call me Leroy," he replies, smiling.

"Leroy, then. I'll just be going to find Rachel..." He trails off as she appears in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Kurt! Oh my goodness, what took you so long?" She runs forward and hugs him. Kurt quickly places the coffee on the table before it falls out of his hands. Rachel's dad shoots Kurt a sorry glance, then carries on reading his newspaper. Before she even lets go, Rachel starts talking at a million miles a minute. "I was starting to worry that maybe there was ice on the road and your car had slipped into a ditch and you were lying with a bleeding head and broken arms so you couldn't hold your phone-"

"Okay, Rachel, we get the idea. I'll explain everything," he says, grabbing the coffee and steering Rachel out of the door. "Nice seeing you, Mr. Berry."

"Leroy. And yes, you too," he replies, taking a sip of his drink.

Kurt nods, and walks with Rachel to her room. On the way, he thinks of exactly how he could describe what had happened between Blaine and him without her freaking out too much. In the end, he just figures that he should start at the beginning and work from there.

"Kurt Kurt Kurt, tell meeeeeeee! WHAT HAPPENED?!" She pulls him onto her bed, arranging her legs to be folded underneath her, whilst Kurt sits opposite, kicking his boots off as he turns to face Rachel.

"Well, Blaine was there-"

"OHMYGOD, BLAINE," Rachel squeals, the already too-familiar puppy demeanor returning.

"Yes, Blaine," Kurt says.

"Wowee. What happened with him? Did you guys talk or something?" Kurt nods, and Rachel makes some sort of "eee" noise again.

"Yeah, we talked. He works at Cafetière as well, the little coffee shop just opposite The Gap. Anyway, I went in and he was working behind the counter, so I went to order my coffee…" Kurt continues talking as he replays their conversation in his head. He has made a friend; a friend who seems to understand him and is willing to accept him for all of his … differences. The precise reasons that people hate him at McKinley, Blaine's fine with them all, apparently. When Kurt told him he was gay, he expected a negative reaction, in the least. Maybe Blaine would've shut himself off a bit, maybe he would have left the table, but he didn't. He's gay too. Kurt remembers how he had said that he wasn't fully out yet, and the way in which he had said it.

Almost as if he's scared.

He knows first-hand how hard being gay can be if you are surrounded by the wrong people. He knows from personal experience how draining and exhausting and just bad being bullied for something you can't help is, how completely soul-destroying it feels to wake up on a Monday morning, full of dread and, buried deep inside, a wish that you never had to see the sun again. It's ridiculously hard to just get through the day sometimes, but the even worse thing is that Kurt understands the tone in Blaine's voice, the glimmer in his eyes, the catch of his breath. It was so quick that Kurt had barely noticed it at the time, but now, replaying the scene in his head, he sees it. He sees the sadness, the worry, the anxiety, the secret. It reminds Kurt of how he felt when he was still in the closet, when he had pretended to like Brittany, when he wasn't himself. It was awful, and so tiring, trying to keep up an act all the time, and Kurt realizes it's a self-destructive behavior that could end in a very bad way if Blaine doesn't talk to someone about it.

Kurt hadn't realized that he'd stopped talking. "Kurt, is something wrong?" Apparently he'd stood up as well.

"No, I was just thinking about Blaine, that's all." Kurt can't ignore the knot that's growing in his stomach. But Blaine had seemed happy. Yeah, he had. But that doesn't mean anything, right? People can act and fool everyone around them every day for years until it's too late. Stop over reacting.

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean, you said that he told you he was gay and then you just stopped and stood up." Rachel's looking at him with wide eyes, her fingers fisting in the hem of her jumper.

"Oh." Kurt slumps back onto the bed, and lies down. Rachel uncrosses her legs and lies beside him. "He said he wasn't fully out, and there was something about the way he said it, Rach. I don't know, I didn't realize at the time, but it reminded me of something and I'm worried." Kurt stares at the ceiling until his eyes start to burn from not blinking. He rubs them with the backs of his hands as he lets out a deep sigh. Rachel turns her head to look at him.

"What does he remind you of?" Her voice is small.

"Me. He reminds me of me before I came out." Kurt looks at Rachel and exhales slowly. "All the draining lies, the deceit, the act; it was all there. And he's not fully out, that means that there are people he can't tell, and I'm just a bit worried, that's all. No one should have to hide themselves away; I don't want him to have to suffer." Rachel sits up, and tugs at Kurt's arm.

"Right, come on. I'm ending your little pity party now, and sorting this out. We're done with the wrapping now, right?" Kurt shakes his head as he sits up, rubbing the back of his neck absent-mindedly.

"No, there's still the-"

"Doesn't matter, I'll finish it. You are going to ring him or text him or something, and find out when you can meet up so you can talk to him about this whole gay thing," Rachel instructs, making air quotes around the last two words.

"He works, like, all the time. It's kinda strange, actually."

"Kurt. Stop making excuses because you're nervous-"

"I am not nervous!" Kurt exclaims.

"You are too! You bumped into him by chance these past two times and now you've got to actually arrange a set time and place by yourself instead of letting fate do all the work, of course you're going to be a little bit apprehensive! That's part of a relationship, though. You learn about the other person's-"

"Rachel. Stop. I get it, alright? I'll text him and arrange a coffee or something." Kurt looks down at his boots, and squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds. Everything was happening so fast.

"You could've just said date," Rachel whispers. Kurt shakes his head. What happened to friends? You've never analyzed one of your friend's eyes in so much depth before. Don't get dragged under, Kurt. Don't do it.

"No. That's not what we are. We're friends and that's it. I've only spoken to him twice, for goodness sake!" Kurt's growing increasingly agitated. He stands up, and heads toward the door. "I appreciate all of your help, Rachel, but right now I just need some time to think."

The small girl nods, and moves to stand next to Kurt, hugging his arm. "You'll figure it out, Kurt. You always do." Kurt smiles and wraps an arm around Rachel.

"I'll talk to you soon." With that, he grabs his phone and leaves.

Kurt manages to escape out of the front door without any of the Berry family seeing. He loves Rachel and her dads, but right now, he needs to be alone with his thoughts and some calm music. And Blaine.

Just before he buckles his seatbelt, Kurt sends a text.

**To: Awesome Blaine**

**(17:18)**

**Hey there.**

**When you get a few minutes, let me know and I'll call you.**

- **Kurt**

He places his phone onto the passenger seat and starts the drive home, listening to Fairytale of New York on the radio as he sings along half-heartedly. Before he knows it, he's at a stoplight with no idea of where he's headed. The idea of talking to Blaine again makes Kurt feel something he hasn't experienced in a while.

Hope.

He doesn't want to bother going home if he's going to be meeting Blaine, but he also doesn't want to be presumptuous and assume that just because they'd had coffee together that Blaine would be willing to meet him again. Kurt's confused and fed up of arguing with himself, so he waits for the green signal, and drove until he found a parking lot in which he parked, and checked his phone. There was one new message, but before he could read it, his phone started vibrating violently in his hands. An incoming call.

He glances down at the caller ID and smiles when it displays Awesome Blaine. He'd have to change that, just in case, y'know, anyone saw. But for now, he presses the green ANSWER button and puts the phone up to his ear, taking a deep breath in as he does so.

"Hello," he says, bracing himself for the response.

"Hi Kurt, it's Blaine." It takes Kurt a few moments to get over hearing his voice again. It's silly, Kurt knows that, and he doesn't want to act so childlike, but oh God, his voice. It's really lovely and enticing, and Kurt finds his stomach doing flips. He curses himself internally for being so damn ridiculous over a mere four words, but he really can't help it. Friends, Kurt. Just. Stay. Friends. Taking a slow breath out, Kurt screws his eyes together and rubs his forehead with his free hand, resting his head against the driver-side window.

"Y-yeah, I figured with Caller ID and all that jazz." All that jazz, Kurt? Really?

Blaine lets out a low chuckle, and Kurt can't stop the smile that erupts on his face. "Well, yeah. That makes sense." There's a moment of silence, Kurt just trying to figure out how on Earth he's ended up acting like a teenage schoolgirl with a crush, because one, he isn't a teenage schoolgirl, he's a fully grown man, and two, he does not have a crush.

Nope, not at all.

Dammit.

"What was it you-"

"I was wondering when-"

Both men start talking at the same, and Kurt snorts.

"Sorry, you go first," Blaine says quietly.

"Oh, um, okay. Thank you." Shut up and get talking Hummel. "So I was wondering when you were next free to meet up, because there are some things I want to talk to you about and well, y'know, yeah." There's a moment of hesitation from Blaine's side, and Kurt starts to dread ever asking.

"Well, unless you have no other plans or anything you need to be doing, I'm free tonight. I've got to go babysit the Carson kids, but they're completely sweet and no trouble at all. Most of the time I just sit watching atrocious reality television for a couple of hours, so if you want to come with me, we could talk then? I totally understand if you don't want to do that, but I'll split my pay with you 'cause that'd only be fair and-"

"Blaine."

"Sorry, I get a little rambley sometimes," Blaine replies breathlessly. No surprise there, the boy doesn't even stop for air.

"It's okay. And I'd love to go babysitting with you."

"Are you sure? I mean, that's great, but you don't have to if-"

"Blaine. Rambling again."

"Sorry." Kurt can almost hear Blaine's cheeks reddening through the mobile connection. Kind of adorable, actually.

Nope, shut up Kurt. Friends. You're helping a friend out and talking to him like a friend. Nothing more. Stop. Calling. Him. Adorable.

"I would lov- really like to go with you. Tell me the address, I'll be there."

Kurt drives to the house Blaine had told him in a state of equal excitement and nervousness. He keeps playing over what he wants to say in his head, and practically drives himself crazy with the rehearsal of it all. God knows why he's so nervous.

No. You know why. You're practically talking to your younger self here, and you're scared. You're scared that you're going to get it wrong and scare him off, or worse, give him some bad advice.

There are a million things that could go wrong and you're worried about every single one.

Before Kurt's head can explode with any more internal arguments, he arrives at the house. There's a gate, followed by a long stone driveway, surrounded by trees and bushes. From what Kurt could see, it is immaculate. Wondering how on Earth he was supposed to get in, he pulls out his phone to text Blaine. Just as he's about to press send, there's a knock at his window. To say that he jumps out of his skin is an understatement. Kurt is so engrossed in his phone that he doesn't notice Blaine standing at the side of his parked car. Breathing deeply, he smiles at him, and motions for him to get in the passenger seat. As soon as Blaine is sat inside, Kurt reminds himself to breathe.

"Hey there, Kurt. You didn't have to come, y'know."

"God Blaine, what have I told you? I wanted to," Kurt replies, shaking his head. Blaine mumbles something so quietly that Kurt can't hear it. "What was that?"

"Oh, it was nothing, doesn't matter. I guess we should head in then," Blaine smiles. Noticing Kurt's look of confusion, he explains as he buckles himself in. "If you drive up to the gate, I'll let Mr. and Mrs. Carson know I'm here, and then we're good." Kurt nods, and sets the car into drive. He unrolls the window when they reach the speaker, and Blaine leans across him to talk.

Breathe, Kurt. Breathe.

"Hello? How may I be of assistance?"

"Hi, Lauren, it's Blaine. I'm here for Sydney and Julia."

"Of course! I'll let them know you're here."

The intercom makes a beeping noise, and slowly, the gates start to pull apart.

"Lauren's the maid. She'll just be leaving, I think." Maid. Okay. Kurt nods, looks across at Blaine, and then realizes something as he drives the car forward.

"Is your car already down here?"

Blaine shakes his head as he speaks. "No, I walked here." Walked here.

"You walked? From where?" Kurt focusses on the pathway in front of him, which is really long.

"Well, walked, ran, a little of both. Er, from the coffee shop. My bike broke, so I couldn't cycle like usual."

"Wow. You must be exhausted! How far is it, like four miles?" Kurt asks, shock seeping into his voice.

"Six-point-three, or so I'm told," Blaine states.

"That's, yeah. That's impressive," Kurt says as he parks the car next to a huge Rolls Royce, and cuts the engine.

"Thank you," Blaine replies as he points to a door. "If we go in that way, we might be able to catch Cecelia and John before they leave. Introduce you, and all." Cecelia. Posh name.

"O-okay, I'll follow you."

"Sounds good!" Blaine chirps, walking briskly over to the door he indicated earlier. He disappears inside, and Kurt speeds up to make sure he doesn't lose him. He's greeted by a woman with immaculate blond hair, and a brown-haired man who is very tall. The woman, who he presumes is Cecelia, is dressed in a black cowl-neck dress with a very expensive-looking pearl necklace around her neck, and black heels. Kurt can't fault her outfit choice at all, she looks lovely.

"Ahh, here he is!" Blaine says, grabbing Kurt's arm and pulling him forward. "Kurt, this is Cecelia and John Carson. Cecelia, John, this is my friend, Kurt Hummel." Kurt puts out his hand and shakes both of the adults's hands.

"It's a pleasure, Mrs. and Mrs. Carson," Kurt greets.

"I'm sure Blaine can show you where everything is." Blaine nods in response. "Have a good night boys!" Cecelia squeaks as John guides her out of the door. Blaine moves over to the door to wave them goodbye. "Don't forget, they need to be asleep by 9, at absolute latest," the woman shouts before closing her car door. Blaine and Kurt wave to them as they drive by before shutting the door.

"Guess I'd best introduce you to the Carson juniors, huh?" Blaine smirks. Kurt nods, and follows him up a set of stairs to what appears to be a playroom. On the floor, eyes glued to the television, are two young children, a boy and a girl. The girl has hair very similar to her mother's, and the boy has blonde curls. Kurt steps to the side, because as soon as they hear Blaine shout 'Hey there!', they're up and running towards him like it's the only thing they know how to do.

"Blainers!" they both yell simultaneously. They hug his legs, and fight over who he picks up first. He laughs with them, and Kurt thinks it's the sweetest thing he's ever seen. On a friend level, of course. When Blaine eventually manages to get them to calm down enough to sit still on either side of him on the floor, he motions for Kurt to come over.

"I've got someone I want you two to meet," Blaine says, leaning in close to each of them as if he's sharing a private tale.

"Who who who?" the boy squawks, obviously oblivious to Kurt's presence.

"He's my friend, and he's called Kurt. Go say hi," Blaine says, smiling. Both children jump up and run over to Kurt, stopping a little in front of him. They both look up at him with big eyes.

"Hello Kurt," the girl says, stepping closer.

"Hi there sweetie, what's your name?" Kurt asks.

"Miranda," she replies, spinning while she speaks.

"That's a lovely name," Kurt comments. "How about you?"

"Benjamin," the boy mumbles. He quickly turns on his heel and runs back to Blaine, hiding behind his legs.

"Well, it's nice to meet both of you. I'm helping Blaine out tonight."

"Cool!" Miranda declares, before turning around and yelling at Blaine, "Can we play some games Blainey?" Blaine nods and grabs her little hand. Kurt chuckles and watches as they clamber over to the games shelf, Blaine crawling with the two kids on his back, their arms flailing. The connection they have is so sweet to watch. Blaine has clearly developed a good bond with them as they're highly reluctant to leave his side.

Kurt sits on the couch while Blaine helps Miranda and Benjamin to set out snakes and ladders, before being literally dragged over by his pinkie finger to join them. Miranda was certainly … something.

They play five rounds of Snakes and Ladders, Blaine constantly letting himself be beat. The way he interacted with the children was heart-warming, to say the least. Kurt won once, Miranda once, and Benjamin three times. He's the quieter of the pair, but came out of his shell as he got to know Kurt more. Kurt swaps their pieces in the last game without anyone apart from Benjamin seeing, allowing him to beat Miranda. They high-five quickly, and Kurt spins him around when he wins. Miranda stands up and shakes her brother's hand, pouting slightly. "Nice game," she murmurs, slumping onto the sofa with a huff. Blaine and Kurt laugh for a while before Blaine tells them it was time for bed.

"Blaaaaaaainers, can you make us some warm milk like you did last time?" Miranda coos.

"It made my nightmares go away," Benjamin admits in a small voice. Blaine starts to answer before Kurt cuts him off.

"I'll make you some. My mom had a great recipe for it when I was younger. Blaine can read you both a bedtime story." Blaine nods and grabs their hands, leading them down the stairs.

Kurt finds the ingredients he needs in their huge kitchen relatively quickly. He's just boiling the milk on the stove when Blaine appears.

"Hey," he says, standing beside Kurt.

"Hi."

"You didn't have to do this, y'know. Thank you."

"It's no problem. I haven't made this for years, actually. When my mom died, warm milk never tasted the same, so I stopped drinking it," Kurt replies. A few seconds later, he realizes what he'd just said. "Oh no, I didn't mean to say that. I'm sorry-"

"No, it's fine." Blaine looks at the ground. "I'm sorry about your mom," he whispers.

"It's not your fault; you don't have to say sorry."

"I know, I just-"

"Blaine," Kurt says, cutting him off. "It's okay." Blaine looks at him and nods, giving him a small smile. Kurt smiles back and takes the pan off the heat. "Do they have cups to put this in?" Blaine nods and rummages around in the cupboard next to them before pulling out two cups: one with cartoon dinosaurs on, the other with comical horses.

"Here you go," Blaine says as he holds them out for Kurt to pour the milk into. "Let's go." Kurt puts the pan and the spoon into the sink and follows Blaine out. At the bottom of the stairs (yet another set of stairs), Blaine spins around and gives the cups to Kurt. "You made it; you get to give it to them. They'll love you forever." Kurt chuckles and mutters a small thanks as he takes them from Blaine's hands. When their fingers touch, Kurt inhales quickly and unnoticeably; smiles and hurries after Blaine.

Friends, Kurt. That's all you are.

Kurt goes into Miranda's room first and passes her the cup. Her room's very pink; dotted with rosettes and a few small trophies.

"You're good at horse riding? That's amazing," Kurt says, noting that all the ribbons, prizes and certificates are from equestrian competitions.

"Yeah! My horse is just out that window," Miranda tells Kurt, pointing to the window opposite her bed. Kurt walks over and spots a brown and white pony grazing in a field. Must be the back of the house.

"Wow, she's lovely!" Kurt gushes.

"Her name is Arabella, and it's her birthday tomorrow."

"Well, happy birthday to Arabella for tomorrow! Tell her I say hello," he smiles.

"I will! You're really cool Kurt, this milk was nicer than Blaine's. Don't tell him I said that!" she backtracks, giggling.

"Your secret's safe with me. Goodnight Miranda," he says, exiting the room with an empty cup. He softly shuts the door behind him, and bumps into Blaine in the corridor.

"Benji's waiting to see you," he whispers, conscious of the sleepy children around. Kurt nods, and Blaine takes Miranda's empty cup from his hands. "I'll wait for you out here."

When Kurt goes nto Benjamin's room, he smiles at the array of model dinosaurs on the shelf above his head.

"Hi Kurt!" he shouts, jumping out of his bed and running over to hug Kurt's legs, almost knocking the cup out of his hands.

"Whoa there, little man, steady! You go get in bed, I'm right here." Kurt follows him over, placing the mug on his bedside cabinet. He runs his hand over Benjamin's forehead and leans in a little closer. "I used my Mom's old recipe for this," he points to the milk, a sudden tightness in his chest. "It made my nightmares go away, and hopefully, it'll make yours disappear too." Kurt prays that the vulnerable little boy hadn't heard his voice catch.

"Yeah, nightmares suck. Thank you," he replies, sipping at the milk. "It tastes awesome."

"Mmm, that's my Mom's magic working already," Kurt smiles sadly. "Now, you sleep and dream of your favorite things little man, okay? You'll be okay. I'm just downstairs if you need me."

"Goodnight Kurtie," he whispers, eyelids drooping. He hands the cup back to Kurt and rolls onto his side.

"Sleep tight, Benji," Kurt replies, finally feeling able to use his shortened name. Just as promised, Blaine's waiting outside his door.

"Hey," Kurt says, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.

"Are you okay?" Blaine asks, concern in his eyes. Kurt takes a deep breath in.

"I'll explain downstairs." Blaine nods, leading Kurt down to a very modernized living room. The suites are pristine white, the coffee table's glass has no finger prints and the massive television in the corner is playing soft opera music. "Are you comfortable in here?"

"Yeah," Kurt swallows. "Yeah, this is good."

"Great. Well, take a seat, I'll grab us some drinks." Blaine disappears out of the room, and Kurt looks at the sofas in front of him.

Where am I supposed to sit?

He mulls the problem for a while, before putting himself on a small two-seater couch. Blaine can choose where he wants to sit from one of thethree other sofas in the room. Ridiculous.

Blaine returns with two Cokes, checking with Kurt that he likes it before handing it to him. The brush of their fingertips sends thrills up Kurt's spine. You've really got to get used to that, Kurt. This is practically the fifve-hundredth time this has happened now. FRIENDS. DON'T. GET. FREAKING. EXCITED. OVER. BRUSHING. HANDS.

"D'ya mind if I sit there?" Blaine asks, pointing to the space next to Kurt.

"Not at all," Kurt responds. Blaine puts himself on the sofa, not immediately next to Kurt, but not too far either. It's nice, having someone there. "They're really great kids."

"Yeah, they are," Blaine agrees, taking a sip of his drink before placing it on the coffee table in front of them.

"They think of the world of you," Kurt says truthfully, smiling at Blaine. Blaine smiles back, and Kurt's chest tightens.

"I guess. I've been looking after then since Miranda was 2, so I've kinda grown up with them. She's seven in a few weeks, so it's been a while."

"That's really sweet. You've done a great job." A silence falls between them, however it isn't an awkward one. There's an unspoken understanding of what's coming, but neither boy knows what to say.

Finally, Blaine breaks it.

"What happened?" His voice is quiet, so much so that Kurt has to lean in close to hear him. As soon as he's registered what Blaine is asking, he looks up and finds Blaine to be looking directly back at him. He nods, so Kurt takes a deep breath and starts talking.

"When I was eight, I fell over at school and scraped my knee. The blood got to me, I guess, and I threw up." He takes a shaky breath in and all of asuddent, finds Blaine's hand on his leg, squeezing gently. "I was fine, but being a kid, I made it seem like it was the end of the world." Kurt smiles weakly through the lump rising in his throat.

"They rang my mom, and my teacher told me that she'd left work to come get me. She picked me up, and when we were driving to get a McDonalds, a c-car came out of no-nowhere, and h-hit us." Blaine's grip tightens, and Kurt starts to fiddle with the rim of his glass.

"In the car, I woke up before anyone got to us. There was bl-blood everywhere and she wouldn't wake up. I just remember hearing this noise, this loud noise, and I realized it was me, screaming. I couldn't stop." Suddenly, Kurt's back in the car, looking at his mom who isn't moving. He's back in the hospital, swinging his little legs from a huge plastic chair, not knowing what's going on. He's back in his dad's arms, telling his daddy to stop crying; telling him that he'd be okay, that the two of them can do it together.

Out of nowhere, it's all too much, and Kurt can't breathe. He feels his bottom lip start to tremble uncontrollably, and he looks away from his friend as tears start to spill.

"Kurt…" Blaine breathes, rubbing his back. "I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry." Kurt sniffs, and scrunches his eyes shut as more tears appear. Reluctantly, Blaine moves his hand from Kurt's back to pass him a tissue out of his pocket.

"No, it's o-okay," Kurt sniffs. "I just, sometimes, I feel so responsible." Blaine starts to speak, but Kurt silences him. "It was my fault she was in the car. If I hadn't been so melodramatic, she'd still be here."

"Kurt! Kurt, stop it. It's not your fault. Were you driving the car that hit yours? No, you weren't. Hey, look at me," Blaine commands. Slowly, Kurt looks up at him. "It was not your fault, okay?" Kurt nods, and runs his hand through his hair.

"I got nightmares before she died, and she always made them go away by giving me warm milk every night. I guess doing the same for Benji hit something in me." Blaine stays silent, giving Kurt a small smile. "I'm sorry. I never cry," Kurt admits bashfully, wiping his eyes.

"It's perfectly fine. I'm not that bad, am I?" Blaine smiles at him, and then stands up.

"No, not at all," Kurt says, smiling.

"Do you want to watch a movie? Or we could talk, or whatever. You chose."

"Do you mind if we just chat?" Kurt asks hesitantly.

"That sounds good to me. You said earlier you wanted to talk to me, right?" Blaine asks, resuming his seat next to Kurt. He's moved closer in.

"Actually, yes. You can tell me to shut up whenever you want, but there is something. Earlier, you said that you weren't fully out. I wanted to know what you meant," Kurt asks, getting more hesitant with every word. His breathing's still slightly uneven.

"That's a fair question. Sure, I trust you." Oh. My. God.

"That came out totally wrong. You don't have to tell me," Kurt mumbles, drinking.

"No, it's okay. I get that it's kinda confusing, just leaving you with that," Blaine replies, looking down. "Well, my family don't know. My parents are not the most accepting people and my brother's not home very often. I think that maybe if I waited until I had a, y'know, boyfriend, then it'd be better."

You could be that person.

OH MY GOD, SHUT UP KURT.

"I have a few friends at my school who know, but the less people I tell, the better. It just kinda slipped out earlier." Kurt nods.

"Is there any particular reason you think that?"

"No." It's so abrupt and short that Kurt can't help but think it is a lie. Something in Blaine seems to scream "What the hell", and he carries on. "Yeah. At my old school, I went to a dance with a guy I was friendly with. He told me he was gay, I told him I was gay, and we went together as friends, I guess. Anyway, we were waiting for his dad when these guys just came out of nowhere and beat the crap out of us because we were sitting too close together. I was in hospital for a month, I never saw him again. My parents, they didn't know I'd gone with a boy. They were mad enough at me as it was, for all the bills and time off work they had to have to make it look like they were good parents, so I wasn't about to tell them that I was gay on top of that." Blaine doesn't take a stop for breath until the end when he looks up at Kurt with an apology written all over his face. "Wow, I'm sorry. It all came out at once, didn't it?"

"Kinda, but don't worry about it. I'm really sorry that happened to you, Blaine." Blaine smiles at him sadly. "Your parents shouldn't treat you like that. It's awful." Kurt finds himself getting quite angry.

"People are so cruel," he whispers.

"They really are." A silence follows, until Blaine looks down at his hands again and clears his throat.

"I guess the worst part was that I was going to ask him to go on a date with me, a real date, the next day. We both liked the same movies and I was going to take him to see Transformers 4 with me, but I never even got to say goodbye." His voice catches slightly, but he swallows and continues as if nothing happened. "My parents put me in a private hospital straight away, I transferred to a private school and that was that. We never speak of it anymore."

"That sounds really, really-"

"Sucky? Yeah. It was. But still-"

"No, no 'but still's, Blaine. You shouldn't have to had experienced any of that. It's not okay and it's not fair," Kurt says, shaking his head. "Listen, you didn't deserve being beaten up and you don't deserve your parents acting like that either. Please, please believe me." I don't know what I'd do if you didn't.

"I'll try to." It's such a short sentence, but it is packed with so much emotion. I. Will. Try. To. Meaning he doesn't right now. He feels like he deserved the attack, he thinks he deserves his parent's disapproval. Oh god.

"Blaine, listen to me." Kurt waits until Blaine looks into his eyes. "I want you to know that whenever you feel bad about this, whenever you blame yourself or you just don't feel happy, you ring me. I'll answer, no matter what the time is. Promise me you'll do that." His voice takes on a pleading tone.

Kurt tries to ignore the tears filling up in his eyes, and keeps on looking at Blaine. "Please, Blaine," he begs, after getting no response.

"Okay, I guess," Blaine whispers, fiddling with the hem of his sweater. "Alright."

"Good."

"What's your favorite movie?"

"What?"

"I said, what's your favorite movie?" Blaine repeats. "Let's talk about something less … heavy."

From then on, their conversation revolves around movies, celebrities, fashion icons, and oddly enough: middle names. Blaine makes Kurt promise never to use his; he feels it is way too posh-sounding and pretentious. Kurt agrees reluctantly, thinking to himself that it actually sounds rather lovely. He gets the feeling that anything relating to his parents is a sore subject, hence why Blaine had changed it as quickly as he could.

When Mr. and Mrs. Carson arrive home from their dinner party, Kurt says a quick hello-goodbye before dragging Blaine out to his car.

"What?" he asks, looking at Blaine's bemused face. "Did you really think I was going to let you walk-slash-run all the way to your house at this time of night?"

"I guess not. But still-"

"Ugh, you and those two words. I'm taking you home, end of." Blaine holds his hands up in mock surrender, and jumps into the passenger seat. He gives Kurt a rough idea of how to get to his house, and buckles himself in.

They chat about Vogue, their favorite musicals and songs in the charts, until Blaine interrupts Kurt (he's talking about Call Me Maybe and how the lyrics are totally ludicrous) to look out the window.

"Kurt, you need to turn around, you've gone past the house." Kurt notices how he says the house not my house, and swallows thickly as he reverses into an empty driveway.

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Tell me when to turn." Blaine nods sharply, and heaves out a sigh. Kurt drives a few minutes before Blaine mumbles "It's the next one," and continues to stare at the floor of Kurt's car like it's the most intricate thing he's ever seen.

As Kurt parks up in Blaine's driveway and looks at his house, he feels kind of sad. Sad that their evening has come to end, sad that the weekend Kurt met Blaine is now over. Sad that the house is huge and about three times the size of Kurt's own, sad that it looks brand new and not at all lived in, but mostly sad that Blaine actually has to leave him now.

His house is a massive three floored white building, with actual pillars outside the front door, holding up an overhanging balcony. There's an awful lot of glass on the ground floor, including a series of floor-to-ceiling windows that lets Kurt see straight into the empty living room. There are potted plants around the steps leading up the front door, and a pristine front garden to the left of where Kurt and Blaine are sat. Somehow, the house doesn't look at all dirty. It wouldn't surprise Kurt if Blaine told him that it had only been constructed that day because it's so immaculately clean. How that works, Kurt has no idea. Sensing that he's been staring and sitting silent for maybe a little too long (he also notices that Blaine has made no move to get out), Kurt clears his throat and speaks.

"'m sorry, it's just your house is-"

"Huge? Immaculate? Ridiculous? Any and all of the above are fine." There's something in his voice that Kurt can't quite put his finger on. It's similar to exasperation, but it isn't exactly that. More like a resigned feeling of annoyance, perhaps.

"Er, yeah, I guess. Although ridiculous wasn't exactly on my list," Kurt replies, looking at Blaine's face. The house. Not my house, the house. "Hey, is everything okay?" Blaine swallows quickly and rubs his eyes.

"Oh, um, yeah. Thank you for the ride, Kurt," he says quickly, opening the car door and getting out before Kurt can stop him. He starts to walk away when Kurt yells his name.

"Blaine! Blaine, wait a second." He turns around, but doesn't move.

"Did I leave something?" Kurt shakes his head as he walks over to the smaller boy.

"No, you didn't. What's wrong?" Blaine looks down the ground and scuffs the toe of his left shoe against the floor. With everything else being so clean, it probably wouldn't do any damage, Kurt muses. "We had a good time today, right?" Blaine mutters a 'yes' in response, still not looking up. "So what's happened? Why are you running away like this?"

Blaine coughs and blinks slowly. "I'm not running away. I'm not," he says, sounding as though he is convincing himself too. "I just, I don't know how to do this. I don't really have friends, just Santana. She's never been back here, no one has." He swallows thickly and glances back up.

"No one's ever been to your house?" Kurt asks incredulously, monitoring Blaine's expression.

"No," Blaine responds quietly. "You're the first."

"Well," Kurt says. "I feel honored. Thank you, Blaine Devon Anderson, for letting me be the first friend ever to go to your house. I want to thank my parents for allowing me to-"

"Kuuuuuuuuuuuuuuurt. You said you wouldn't use my full name!" His eyes crinkle. "And this isn't an Oscar or anything, but yeah. I couldn't think of anyone better to give this 'award' to," Blaine chuckles, making air quotes.

"Thank you. I mean it. And don't worry, your house is lovely. And kinda big!" Kurt whispers behind his hand, as though it's a secret kept between just the two of them.

"Yeah, it is. Too big," Blaine agrees. A silence falls between them.

"I had a great time today," Kurt finally says.

"Yeah, me too. It was good fun."

"And remember, I'm just a phone call away if you need to talk about anything, and I mean it, anything," Kurt assures. Be brave, Kurt. Do it. "I'm going to hug you now, okay?" Blaine nods as Kurt steps forward, closing the small space between them. As he wraps his arms around Blaine's neck, he feels Blaine's go around his waist. Instinctively, he squeezes a little tighter, and rests his head on the other boy's shoulder, tipping it towards Blaine's. When he feels their ears touch, a spark of electricity runs through Kurt's body and makes him shiver. Not again, dammit.

"You alright?" Blaine asks as he pulls away, looking at Kurt with slow blinking eyes.

"Never better," he replies, not realizing just exactly how true that is. "You? You look like you could fall asleep right here."

"Yeah, I'm a little tired I suppose," Blaine says. "Um, thank you, for the, um, hug. It was nice."

"Anytime," Kurt says, meaning it. "Now, go in and sleep, okay? I mean it, Mister!" Blaine spins on his heel and turns to walk the short distance to his front door, turning his key as he replies.

"I will do! Bye, Kurt." Blaine disappears into the house and appears at one of the windows barely seconds later, waving madly. Kurt shuts the door and curses himself for leaving the engine running. He sends Blaine a text and waves as he drives off, sighing contently.

**To: Awesome Blaine**

**(22:51)**

**I had an awesome time today (okay, I like that word). And neither you nor your house scared me (that much). Only kidding. Sleep well Blaine Devon Anderson. (Yeah, I went there. AGAIN.)**

- **Kurt**

Once Kurt gets home, he smiles when he sees he has a text from Blaine.

**From: Awesome Blaine**

**(22:53)**

**Good, I did too. I told you that you like it. I'm psychic, and you're evil, Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. (I can play dirty too. HA.) Thank you, you too. :-)**

- **Blaine**

**To: Awesome Blaine**

**(22:54)**

**Okay, fine, it's a draw, Blaine Devon Anderson. Goodnight.**

- **Kurt**

**From: Awesome Blaine**

**(22:55)**

**Goodnight Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.**

- **Blaine (not Devon Anderson)**

Kurt smiles and sends one last text before heading to bed.

**To: Awesome Blaine**

**(22:57)**

**Goodnight**

- **Kurt (not Elizabeth Hummel)**

He falls asleep with quiet piano instrumentals playing through his earphones, and for once, he smiles as he dreams peacefully.


	5. Chapter Five

It all happens on the Friday.

Blaine and Kurt have been texting every day, talking about nonsensical trivia most of the time. They've spoken about their respective show choirs, and how the New Directions are totally gonna beat the "preppy boys in blazers" as Kurt likes to call them. What he doesn't tell Blaine is that the idea of Blaine in a blazer and tie is kinda too much.

There is the one day however, on Tuesday, when it isn't all pointless talking. Kurt has been texting Blaine through school, and they're both making regular "toilet trips" so they can talk to each other in private. What Blaine gets when he answers Kurt's call at the beginning of fourth period isn't what he expects.

"Hey, Kurt! Thanks for getting me out of Algebr-" He stops when he hears a deep, shaky breath on the end of the line. "Kurt, is everything alright?"

There's a pause, and a sniff, and then, hardly audible, a "Yeah." It's far from the truth.

He's had enough.

Kurt is just done with it all. All the pushes, the dirty glares, the name-calling, the dumpster tosses, the insults.

For a while, it had been bearable.

But now.

Now, it's getting old and annoying and frankly, he's just too tired to deal with everything.

Tired of fighting, tired of not being able to see anything but Karofsky'sface when he closes his eyes. Tired of constantly being scared, tired of sometimes (more often than he'd like to admit) wishing he hadn't woke up that morning.

"No, Kurt. Don't lie to me," Blaine urges.

"'m not."

"What's-"

"Please, Blaine. Please. Just t-talk. I don't care, just p-please, talk." Kurt's voice is strained. There are tears already sliding out of his eyes and his phone is shaking in his hand. "Anything, B-Blaine, just, please."

"Kurt, what's happened? You're scaring me."

"Later, just, talk. Warblers, Algebra, a-anything, just not this. Please." I can't deal with this right now; let me get lost in your ramblings, just for a little while.

"O-okay. Um, well, my Algebra teacher is a complete tool. He doesn't know how to answer questions or teach, for that matter, and er, he's just kinda, well, rubbish." As Blaine speaks, albeit disjointedly, Kurt sinks down to the floor in his toilet cubicle. He lets his head fall against the wall and prays to whoever's listening that Blaine can't somehow see the tears falling incessantly out of his weary eyes. "The Warblers had a meeting, er, yesterday, or was it the day before? It might have been the day before that, actually. Or yesterday, I don't – can't remember. Urmm…" Blaine trails off.

After a while, he carries on, talking about Wes and his gavel, and David's new girlfriend. Kurt clutches the phone to his ear desperately tight; worrying that if he doesn't hold it so closely, Blaine might just disappear.

"But yeah, she seems, er, okay, I s'pose."

"I think I should go back to class now, Blaine," sighs Kurt. I don't want to leave, ever. Please don't stop talking. "I'll see you soon, yeah?" I need to see you, really soon. Now would be good.

"You're just going to leave like that? No explanation, o-or anything?"

"I'll talk to you soo-"

"I'll come to McKinley. Let me come and get you. You can't concentrate like this," Blaine counters, sounding desperate to just do anything.

"No, I don't want you to miss your lessons. I'm fine now anyway." Kurt wipes his tears away, then squeezes his eyes shut, forcing them to stop. I'm anything but fine. "I'll ring you later, when I'm done at school." He hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket. He feels it vibrating with an incoming call, then another, when he doesn't answer the first.

By the third time, Kurt figures he should probably do something about it.

"Blaine, I'm sorry. Just, let me finish today and then, we'll talk. I can't now."

"Only if you're sure," Blaine adds quietly. "Say the word, and I'm there."

"I'll be alright, I promise. Just, enjoy the rest of your day," Kurt replies as he stands up, ending the call. He splashes his face with water, runs a hand through his hair and glances to his phone.

**From: Awesome Blaine**

**(13:07)**

**Courage.**

He smiles weakly, and leaves to go and apologize to his teacher for being late.

Just make it through today.

* * *

Kurt manages to survive throughout the day, but he doesn't go to Glee. He just needs his bedroom, his speakers and his privacy.

He gets his wish, until Blaine calls.

"Kurt?"

"Hey, Blaine."

"Kurt, you really scared me earlier. I didn't know what to do."

"I'm sorry," Kurt says quietly. "I just, I had a really bad day; I needed to listen to something over than people yelling at me, or the sound of myself smacking into a locker."

"Don't apologize. Just, as long as you're okay now, yeah?" His voice is incredibly soothing to Kurt; it makes him forget the day's troubles. He kinda wishes that Blaine was there with him; they could watch movie marathons and throw popcorn at each other, or something.

"I'm better now." There's a silence down the line. Kurt can hear Blaine's breathing. "Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me," Blaine replies gently.

"I wanted to."

"Well, thank you for saying thank you. And any time, I'm here."

"I know." Kurt feels himself tearing up again.

"Don't let them beat you, Kurt. You're a billion times better than they are." With that, a tear spills over Kurt's bottom eyelid.

"You're awesome, Blaine," Kurt says, smiling through tears.

"I told you that you loved that word. I knew it. Psychic," Blaine giggles, and Kurt joins in. The situation is so odd, but Kurt wouldn't change it for the world.

"I've got to go and sort some stuff out with my dad, but er, I'll text you?"

"Not if I text you first," Blaine says jokingly.

"Ha, whatever."

"See you soon."

"Absolutely," Kurt answers, before pressing End Call. He doesn't wipe the grin off his face for the rest of the evening.

* * *

For the next few days, they carry on as normal. Blaine keeps trying to bring up what happened on Tuesday, wanting to know exactly what was going on to make Kurt break down like that, but time and again, Kurt brushes it off as a bad day, and moves on.

If Kurt's honest with himself, he doesn't really have an answer.

You do. The people at school. Finn being the son your dad always wanted, but never got. Not knowing what is going to happen this year, or the next, or the year after that. The butterflies that fly like crazy in your stomach every time you speak to Blaine, or see him, or even think about him. Everything.

He can't jeopardize their "thing" by being an insecure moaning little bitch; he'd already done that when they'd spoke about his Mom.

Once is enough for now.

Until Friday.

The day everything changes.

Things are fine; normal, even. Kurt goes to class; gets an A on an English Lit report, gets called fairy. Then he gets shoved (a regular occurnce in the timeline of Kurt Hummel's life), but this time, something deep down inside of him snaps. Refuse to be the victim. Stand up, and do something about this. Now.

"Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you!" He screams, chasing after Karofsky. He follows him into the locker room, and honestly, he can't remember much after that, except.

He can.

Kurt remembers the way Karofsky's hands grip his face, the way his tongue enters his mouth, thrashing violently around. He remembers the exact way that Karofsky rocks forward, and Kurt feels just how excited he is about their little encounter.

Most of all, he remembers the way it ends. Kurt trying desperately to get away, to kick at something, anything.

He remembers hands gripping everywhere, paralyzing him.

He remembers wondering if he'd ever escape, and he remembers staggering and nearly falling over when a car horn outside distracts Karofksy long enough for Kurt to knee him, then run as fast as he can.

He remembers pretending that he doesn't hear the heavy thuds behind him; how he just runs that little bit quicker.

He remembers running past his car, past a group of jocks who yell at the boy chasing him, calling him over. With a very loud grunt, Karofsky gives up. Kurt doesn't stop running.

He manages to find some trees away from the road, throws his bag over his shoulder, then collapses onto the grass. Within seconds, he's leaning to the side and throwing up what little lunch he'd ate a couple of hours prior.

Swallowing thickly, Kurt drags the back of his hand across his mouth and breathes in deeply. His bag's beside him, upside down and spilling its contents onto the grass. Kurt finds it far beyond him to care.

Then suddenly, it hits him.

Karofsky has kissed him.

He has put his lips onto Kurt's and hate-kissed him.

His first kiss is gone; his first kiss with a boy is stolen from him in a circumstance that he just cannot deal with.

Kurt has never felt so disgusting, so vile, in all of his life.

Karofsky has kissed him.

No matter how many times Kurt says it in his head; it doesn't make it any easier to understand. In fact, the more he repeats the thought, the worse it makes him feel. However, he just can't stop.

He closes his eyes; Karofsky is there. Huge hands, beefy, strong hands grabbing at him. His face, his pallor getting closer and closer until bang, he is on Kurt again.

He opens his eyes; Karofsky is there. Escaping the blackness only results in voices whispering unrepeatable slurs in his head, memories of all the times he'd been shoved or slushied by him replaying in front of him like a projection at the movies.

Kurt settles for just staring at the sky above him, through the gaps in between the leaves and branches. How he doesn't cry is beyond him.

Time passes, and Kurt figures he should probably go somewhere. His phone says it's a half past four, and, as it does every night, it starts to ring, symbolizing the end of Warbler practice.

Without thinking, Kurt answers and presses the phone to his damp ear, feeling the wetness from his still streaming tears leak onto his fingers.

"Hi," Blaine says, sounding out of breath. "How are you?"

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Kurt, are you okay? You don't sound it." From Blaine's end, a car door slams shut. "Kurt?"

"I'm fine, just, are you busy?"

"I'm headed to Mr Danville's house at six, to look after his son for a while; nothing important." Kurt doesn't answer, due to desperately trying to catch his breath. He moves his phone away from his ear so Blaine can't hear his stuttery exhales and inhales. "If you need me, Kurt, I'm right here."

Slowly, Kurt starts to even his breathing out, and he moves the phone back. "Okay. Can I- it is okay if I come with y-you?" No. Stop it. Don't cry on him. Not again. Not now.

"Of course," Blaine replies. "Kurt, do we need to talk about whatever's happened today?"

"I'll pick you up. Is seven okay?"

"I need to be there for six." Kurt shakes his head, momentarily forgetting that Blaine has already said that. "He's only gonna be gone until half-eight. And only if you're sure."

"One hundred percent positive. I'll see you at about a quarter to six, then."

"Yeah, but Kurt, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm- I'm fine. See you later." Kurt hangs up, and his grip on his phone is lost as the sobs hit him. They shake his entire body, his shoulders caving in on themselves; the force of the shakes making his back hit the tree behind him. Kurt brings his lips into his mouth in an attempt to make himself shut up. It doesn't work.

Just. Stop. Crying.

At a quarter to five, Kurt stands up. He wipes his eyes with his hand roughly, shoves his things into his bag and takes off, back towards school. Everyone will be gone by now, that's something at least.

He has four missed calls from his Dad and one from Finn. He'd totally forgotten that, in his mood of complete hopelessness and subsequent running away, he hasn't told anyone where he's been.

"Dad?"

"Kurt, thank God! I tried calling you. Where are you?"

"I'm just headed home. I'll, er, talk to you more there."

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll see you in a few," Kurt says breathlessly, trying to hold himself together enough to drive home without crying.

His plan fails, and at every stop light, he finds himself hunched over, bawling uncontrollably. It's no longer just Karofsky, it's everything. All the years of being alone, all the worries about being insufficient for his dad, for the schools he wants to go to, for the places he wants to end up. There's so much riding on him and the decisions he makes, and that feels like an awful lot of responsibility. Too much.

Somehow, he makes it home in one piece, without causing any crashes either. It's nothing short of a miracle. He makes a few adjustments, makes himself look somewhat presentable and thinks of lovely fluffy thinks before heading in. His dad is sat at the kitchen table, waiting, with an undreadable expression on his face.

"Ah, you're back. We've been worried about you," Burt says, motioning to Carole.

"Finn said you skipped Glee, honey," she adds, smiling softly.

"Yeah, I er, I wasn't in the mood to listen to one of Rachel's crazy rants." Kurt's brain whirs, desperately trying to think of some excuse that is slightly plausible. "I had a headache, I just had to, y'know, get away for a bit. I'm sorry I scared you." It takes every ounce of strength in Kurt not to break down at that point. His dad's giving him a funny look, almost as if he knows that his son is completely lying, but he doesn't question it. Burt just simply nods.

"And you're feeling alright now?" Carole asks. Kurt nods, and then remembers his and Blaine's plans.

"I'm going out at about half six, I won't be back until about nine." Kurt quickly adds, "If that's okay."

"Where are you going?" Burt asks, pushing his baseball hat backwards, and then off his head completely.

"Blaine and I are going babysitting again, like we did on Sunday."

"Is this that kid you met at that Whizz toy store place?" Kurt nods.

"Yeah, that's Blaine."

"Alright then. I need to meet this kid soon, okay? And make sure you do your homework." Burt smiles at Kurt, his eyes expressing a thousand words.

"Sure." With that, Kurt takes off and heads to his room downstairs. He couldn't handle the intense stares he was getting from his Dad. He can't crumble, not now.

He throws himself into the shower, the water so hot it burns. The sadness is now anger; so much anger that Kurt punches the tiled wall. His knuckles crack and bleed, but the pain is somewhat comforting, grounding. Don't get into this.

With thoughts of what else he could do to make himself feel less existentially troubled, he lies on his bed and waits.

Surprisingly, his wait doesn't last long. His shower and wall-punching-spectacular had taken half an hour, so by the time he's done listening toDefying Gravity, it's time for him to leave.

He says goodnight to his Dad and Carole, and assures them that yes, he's fine. He drives to Blaine's house in silence, the only sound being an occasional sniff or whimper. Just make it through the night.

Blaine is waiting for him outside his door, wearing a blue and white striped sweater and dark skinny jeans. Kurt pulls up and shuts his door quietly, meeting Blaine at the middle of the bonnet.

"Hey you," Blaine says. Kurt glances down, then shuts his eyes.

Everything happens at once. For whatever reason, Blaine's voice and his presence, him just being there, tears Kurt in two. Shutting his eyes only brings Karofsky's face to the forefront of his mind, and once again, he's in the locker room, helpless and alone.

"Is everything oka-" Blaine stops as he notices Kurt's shaky breathing and glazed expression. "Let me." Blaine reaches down to take Kurt's ridiculously clenched fist in his hands, slowly rubbing circles over the back to get him to loosen up. Eventually, Kurt's grip lessens, and Blaine is able to take the keys. "Passenger side, now." Blaine takes the now-free hand, and leads Kurt to the door. Kurt's grateful for Blaine's grip; it reminds him that he isn't alone. Tentatively, Kurt squeezes slightly. Blaine returns the favor as he swallows the lump rising in his throat.

Kurt pulls his hand away so he can get in the car. Just after doing that, Blaine sees his other hand. The back of it is red, inflamed. Kurt's knuckles are bruised and open, dried blood littering the wounds. Kurt starts to buckle himself in, but Blaine places his hand on the injured one gently and holds it up.

"Kurt, what happened?"

"Nothing," he replies quietly. "Can we just go?"

There is a pause and then, "Alright." Reluctantly, Blaine lets go and goes around to the driver's side. He starts the car and pulls away. At every chance he gets, Blaine glances over to Kurt. He's worried about his friend, really worried. Something is seriously up.

Kurt, meanwhile, is crumbling. He balls his hands into fists and puts them over his eyes. He ignores the searing pain that came from stretching and re-opening the cuts on one of his hands. Stupidly, he bites down on his lip to stop himself from crying again, but instead yelps when he tastes blood.

"Kurt? What's wrong?" Blaine sounds desperate.

"Mm, nothing. Just, get there." He hates how harsh and broken he sounds, but there is nothing he can do. Blaine sighs, but nods and drives quicker.

When they get to the Danville's house, Blaine gets out first and then runs around to undo Kurt's door.

"Watch your hand, Kurt," he says softly, shutting the door and locking the car.

"I've got it." Blaine leads him to the front door of the admittedly huge house.

"Mr Danville, hi. This is my friend, Kurt. He'll be sitting with me tonight, if that's no trouble." Kurt catches up and sees a man dressed in a suit.

"None at all, Blaine." The man, with bright ginger hair, a thick beard and freckles, smiles warmly at Kurt. "Archie's just cleaning his teeth. He'll be out before you know it."

"Great. I'll see you in a few hours. Enjoy the meeting," Blaine says, waving as the man pulls away in his car.

"If you leave your shoes here, we can go through and say goodnight to Archie, if you'd like."

"Sure." Kurt kneels down and starts to untie his boots, but finds himself unable to. His swollen knuckles are making it impossible for him to move his hand without the cuts bleeding again.

"Let me," Blaine offers quietly. He kneels in front of Kurt and gently moves his hands away. Blaine loosens the laces just enough for Kurt to slip his feet out easily. "Better?"

"Yeah. Thank you," Kurt says, sniffing.

"It's nothing," Blaine replies. "This way." Kurt follows him upstairs to the bathroom, where a small boy, of about three or four, is wiping his mouth on a towel. Like his dad, he has fluffy red hair and freckles.

"Hey Archie!" Blaine yips enthusiastically. "This is Kurt, my friend. Say hi."

"Hello, Kurt," he says politely, holding his little hand out. Kurt shakes it, forcing a smile. Hold it together.

"Hi there. Are you all ready for bed now?" Before he can answer, the boy starts laughing.

"What's so funny?" Blaine asks as he takes Archie's hand.

"You sound like a girl!" he yells, barely able to contain himself. Kurt's face drops and Blaine instantly looks up at him, a million and one apologies written all over his features. Not here. Not now. This wasn't happening. Please, not now.

"Archie, you do not say things like that!" Blaine hisses, voice shaking a little. "Kurt-"

"No, it's, er, it's okay. I'm just gonna h-head to the toil-let." Kurt sets off down the stairs without looking at Blaine or Archie as he hears Blaine yelling something.

"Go straight through the lounge, it's the third door on the right." His voice is distant, muffled, but Kurt can still hear the remorse.

"Thanks," he replies half-heartedly. As he walks away, he can hear Blaine talking loudly and not stopping.

Kurt walks the silent household until he finds the bathroom. Blaine's right; it is the third of a very long corridor of doors. In this place, there are an awful lot of hidden rooms; a lot of corners to get lost in.

The bathroom is nothing short of exquisite. Blaine has sent him to what he presumes to be the largest one in the house. There's a gigantic bath with water jets, surrounded by bottles of body lotions and an assortment of different colored soaps. That takes up the whole of the far wall, whilst a sink and a toilet occupy the other two walls. The towels hanging on hooks are clearly expensive, and the pastel blue mats on the floor fit perfectly with the color scheme of the bathroom. If Kurt is being honest, it's kind of dreamlike, and looks like it has been taken straight from an interior design catalogue, not the home of a family with a young child.

Kurt locks the door behind him and slides down the wall to the ground. Resting his head on his knees, he takes a shaky breath in. Even though he knows his voice is higher than most people would expect, it still hurts. It hurts to be laughed at for something he can't change, especially away from school. Kurt can barely manage the people at school, let alone all the bullies in the rest of the world. In a way, he feels pathetic for being so easily affected by such a trivial thing, but in other ways, he just wants to hide in here and never come out again.

At school, Kurt finds himself feeling lonely a lot. More often that he'd care to acknowledge, he's spent lunch in the library (or on particularly bad days, in the toilets locked in a cubicle), because he doesn't want to be picked on.

He feels lost. Sometimes he feels like he's drifting, with nothing or no one to hold him down. But here, he has one thing that he doesn't at school.

He has Blaine.

Kurt has someone who is accepting of everything Kurt has told him so far, and as he is also gay, he might've experienced the same taunts that Kurt does on a daily basis. Maybe he'd understand how Kurt's feeling, or maybe he would have no idea. He doesn't know when tears start falling, or exactly why, but when he reaches up to wipe them away, he hears a knock.

"Kurt?" Blaine. He's come after you. No one has ever come after you before.

He can't let Blaine see him crying, he just can't. Quickly, he reaches over to grab some tissue and dabs at his eyes, blinking furiously when the tears won't stop. "Kurt, will you let me come in?"

"I'll be out in j-just one mi-minute," Kurt replies quietly, his voice sounding completely out of it.

"Please, Kurt," Blaine pleads. "Let me in." His voice is soft, calm. Understanding.

"O-okay," Kurt mumbles, reaching over to flick the latch unlocked.

Kurt knows he looks a mess. There are tear tracks down his cheeks and tissues crumpled in his hands. For whatever reason, he's beyond caring.

Right now, he just needs to be.

Next to him, the door swings open before clicking shut again. Kurt doesn't, can't, look up until he finds Blaine at eye level, sitting beside him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Kurt-" Blaine begins.

"Please, don't. N-not yet."

"O-o-okay." Blaine interlaces his fingers and starts to twiddle his thumbs. "Just, Kurt, I'm here, okay. Whatever you need, I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere." Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't-

"Please don't be sad, Kurt," Blaine whispers, shuffling closer towards him. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

"It-it's not you," he manages. "I, er, no one has ever come after me before." Blaine doesn't say anything, he just reaches over and takes Kurt's non-injured hand, placing it between his own. Kurt likes the warmth it brings him; the reassurance.

"Archie's in bed and asleep. We don't have to go anywhere," Blaine whispers.

"It wouldn't usually bother me. The whole girly-voice thing. I can handle it. Just, this week…" What happened to being strong? Shut up, Kurt. Shut up. Don't make him think you're pathetic and weak. Those thoughts plague Kurt enough for him to stretch his injured hand's fingers in all sorts of funny angles to make his already battered knuckles ache and scream for him to stop.

"You shouldn't have to handle that kind of thing. It's not okay," Blaine says, reaching over to carefully encase Kurt's bleeding hand in his own, holding his fingers still. He doesn't say anything, but Blaine's tight-yet-gentle grip tells Kurt a million things. Don't hurt yourself. Don't make this worse. Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you. I'll listen to whatever you have to say. You're safe. I'm not leaving.

"After today, I just- I'm sorry." Don't tell him. He'll never want you then. Blaine shakes his head, then glances back down to where his hands are joined with Kurt's.

"Kurt, what happened?" Blaine looks into Kurt's eyes and finds them to be quickly filling up. Don't tell him. Don't cry. Don't be weak, and don't fail, not now. "C'mere," he says as he stands. Once up, he offers his hand to Kurt. Slowly, he takes it, and grabs onto his arm when he shakes as he stands. "Come with me."

Blaine (still holding Kurt's hand tightly) leads him out of the confines of the bathroom and into a long rectangular-shaped bedroom. The walls are red; dotted with posters of musicians (there are multiple of Roxy Music and several Katy Perry…) and musicals, including Rent, Wicked and West Side Story. Kurt would say something, but he's scared that opening his mouth would result in a scream. There's a black sofa bed pushed against one of the longer walls, complete with a plain blue comforter and four cushions.

"Sit down wherever you want. I'll be back in a second, I'm gonna get some stuff for your hand." Kurt merely nods, unable to do anything else.

As Blaine leaves, he gives Kurt's hand a final squeeze. As soon as he's beyond the door, Kurt's insides start to gnarl. What if he isn't coming back? What if he's leaving? What if he's realized what a pathetic wimp you are, and is going to leave you here? Kurt's leg begins to shake as he sits on the very edge of the sofa, nerves overtaking him.

"'m back," Blaine announces, stopping in the doorway briefly before continuing. "Scoot over."

"Wh-what?" Kurt's sat at the edge, why does Blaine need him to move over?

"I need to wrap your hand up, and it'll be easier if I can actually get to it." Kurt looks down and realizes his injured hand is, in fact, against the sofa cushion.

"'kay." Slowly, he shuffles across the couch until his hand becomes more accessible.

"What did you punch?" Blaine asks softly, sitting beside him and resting the bandages and water on the small table at the side of the sofa.

"I didn't punch anything," Kurt replies quietly, unsure as to why he's lying. Blaine takes his hand and lays it on his lap.

"I've been boxing since I was old enough to fit into gloves, Kurt." Blaine starts to wet some cotton wool. "I know how knuckles end up like that." He doesn't sound harsh or judgmental, just inquistive.

"Why 'what'?"

"What do you mean?" Blaine asks.

"You asked me what I p-punched, not who. Why?"

Blaine looks up and into Kurt's eyes. His eyes are ridiculously lovely.

"Because you wouldn't hit someone." He doesn't look away as he speaks. "I'm good at reading people, and you're definitely not the violent kind."He knows you; he knows what you're like. He can read you. He bothered to take an interest in you.

Calm the hell down Kurt Hummel before you have an aneurysm.

Kurt just nods, unable to speak. Blaine smiles a small smile, and frowns a little before looking down.

In one swift moment, Blaine starts to clean Kurt's open wounds. It takes everything in him not to scream out with the pain, including biting down hard on his lip. It stings like a bitch and feels extremely uncomfortable. Now, his mouth's full of metallic tasting liquid. Kurt scowls, and blinks quickly.

"I'm sorry it hurts." Blaine's voice is almost inaudible, but his proximity to Kurt means he hears it. Kurt doesn't know whether he just means his hand.

Blaine retrieves a roll of gauze from the table and starts to wrap up Kurt's hand. He's extremely delicate and careful not to pull too tight. It's like he's done this a million times before.

"It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong," Kurt mutters. Blaine finishes wrapping and taps the back of Kurt's hand gently.

"There you go, as good as new. Well, almost." Blaine stands up, and Kurt misses the dip in the sofa so fast it scares him. He can't - won't - be alone right now. "I'm sure your step-mom could have done it better."

"You remembered."

"What?"

"I told you that Carole was a n-nurse just in passing conversation, and you r-remembered." Kurt feels small- tiny- looking up at Blaine with tear stained cheeks, shaky breaths and stuttering words.

"Oh. Yeah. 'Course I did," Blaine replies. From where he was standing near the door, he sets the gauze and other first aid things on the floor and looks up at Kurt with something in his eyes that Kurt can't quite place.

Please don't ask me.

"Kurt…" Blaine breathes, walking back towards the couch. "What happened?" No, no no no. Don't ask. Don't ask me that. I can't tell you. I can't tell you. I can't tell you. I won't ruin this. I can't tell you.

"No, I don't- I can't, I-"

"Kurt." Blaine is instantly beside him, pulling Kurt into his lap. "Breathe, Kurt, please." He rubs his hands up and down Kurt's back, squeezes his arms and tugs him even closer, if that's even possible.

"No, no I can't, I can't-"

"Hey, no, hush," Blaine whispers, fingers trailing down his arms with the utmost gentleness. "Don't talk, just let it all out."

So he does. Kurt loses it. He cries into Blaine's chest, his shoulders heaving and his whole body shaking for the second time that day. The whole time, Blaine holds his hand and strokes up and down his back and his arms.

Kurt doesn't know how long they are sat there, his legs over Blaine's, sniffling into his sweater. Blaine doesn't move, doesn't complain, and doesn't say anything. He just holds Kurt, and somehow, it is exactly what Kurt needs. Courage.

Slowly, Kurt pulls himself off of Blaine and winces when he sees the circle of dampness he's left on Blaine's sweater.

"Sorry," Kurt says, nodding towards Blaine.

"No, it's fine." He holds his hand out to Kurt, who takes it (with his un-bandaged hand) gratefully. Blaine squeezes it once, and that's all the reassurance that Kurt needs to start talking.

"There's a boy at my school who makes my life hell. Every single day, he pushes me into lockers and insults me, saying things I can't repeat." Kurt's voice breaks on the last syllable, so Blaine tightens his grip.

"It's okay. I'm here," Blaine says, smiling sadly. Kurt stares down at the ground and at Blaine's ridiculous socks.

"He's gotten worse lately. And I've no idea how he found out, but on Tuesday, he said that I should've died in that car with my M-mom because that the world would be a better place with-without me."

"That's why you were so upset." Kurt nods, tugging Blaine's hand. "Kurt, you can't listen to him."

"But I do. Then today..." He stops. Just say the words. "He kissed me, Blaine. He kissed me and he wouldn't stop and he wasn't going to. I was so scared, I really thought he was going do something even worse. God, I ran as fast as I could to get away from him, but I just, I don't know. I don't know what any of it means, and I don't know what to do or what to think and-"

"Breathe. C'mon Kurt, breathe." You're really not very good at this basic human function, are you? As Blaine's rubbing circles into his hand, Kurt's mind slowly stops racing at the speed of light.

"'m sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Kurt. Be angry and be sad, but don't be sorry. You've done nothing wrong." How does he always know exactly what to say to make it all better?

"That was my first kiss. My first kiss with a boy and it was forced upon me by a guy who thinks I should be dead and buried. Fuck."

"I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry Kurt."

"What happened to no apologies?"

"This is different. You shouldn't have to deal with that kind of abuse, or any kind of abuse, period. It's so unfair." Kurt looks into Blaine's eyes and finds them to be extremely comforting. "Listen, I know it's hard, I do. But promise me that you won't listen to what he says. I-I don't know what I'd do without our daily conversations, Kurt."

There's a moment of silence before, "You're exceptional, Kurt." Blaine looks down, then back up. "If you ever feel like the world would be better without you, you ring me. And I will give you a million-and-one reasons why that isn't true. I know this hurts right now, but in time, you're going to be okay. I'm going to make sure of it."

They sit in mostly silence, watching America's Next Top Model until Mr Danville arrives home. However, throughout the whole evening, neither of them move off the sofa. Their hands stay intertwined the whole time, Kurt sitting with his legs folded underneath him and Blaine with his legs spread out in front of him.

When they get up to leave, Kurt takes his keys from the table until Blaine stops him with a hand to his wrist.

"I'll drive you home," he says, taking the keys. Kurt is still shaky on his feet so Blaine walks with him out to the car, still not letting go of his hand. Kurt is still in tatters over the day's earlier events, so much so that he doesn't even think about how Blaine is going to get home.

"You drove home like this?" At Kurt's nod, Blaine whispers, "Shit." He's worried about you. Worried about **you.**

As Blaine follows Kurt's instructions to get to his house, a white flurry begins to appear on the roads. Blaine rounds a corner onto a one vehicle lane, where the snow is already thick. The road is surrounded by fields on either side. After he's put the hazard lights on, Blaine stops the car and cuts the engine. He places his phone on the center console, hides the keys deep inside his pocket, then jumps out the door. What on Earth is he doing?!

Careful not to fall over, he runs around the bonnet to Kurt's side and yanks the door open.

"C'mon, Kurt. Come play with me." Blaine dances in the snow, all by himself, to music only he can hear.

"No chance. These shoes cost-" Without warning, Blaine leans across Kurt's body to unbuckle his seatbelt.

"Come on Kurt!" The thick-falling snow is getting into the car through the open door and wetting his jeans. What the hell. I'm going to play in the snow with a boy I met last week and I'm going to fucking enjoy it.

Kurt puts his phone on the seat and swings his legs out of the car. Blaine takes his good hand and pulls him out into the snow before he kicks the door shut. Slowly, he leads him over a broken fence (holding him steady when he almost slips on the rickety wood) and into the untouched blanket of pristine whiteness.

Blaine walks with him into the very middle of the field and grabs both of his hands, being careful not to hurt the bandaged one further. Kurt finds himself being twirled around, spun in every which direction and enjoying it. Blaine runs with him, hand-in-hand, up and down the field endless times. The snow keeps falling, getting thicker and thicker. Their footsteps get covered time and again, but they don't stay still long enough for it to matter.

Suddenly, Blaine stops and squeezes Kurt's hand.

"Look up," he breathes. Kurt does as he is told, and can't help but gasp. In the sky, there are millions of stars, illuminated by fast falling snowflakes. The stark white against the complete blackness is breathtaking. The moon is full and shining; exactly how Kurt feels.

Blaine is still looking up at the sky when Kurt turns his head slightly to look at him. He takes it all in. Blaine's curls flecked with glistening white snow drops, his reddened nose from the cold, and the childlike awe on his face. Only one word comes to the forefronts of his mind: beautiful. He looks over at Kurt too, and smiles.

"That one, right there, that's you." Blaine points up to the sky. Kurt follows his finger and finds a lone star, just past the moon. "You're a star, Kurt. You're always shining, always there, just not necessarily noticed or appreciated for what you really are."

Kurt can't reply, he just holds Blaine's hand even tighter.

Just as quickly as he'd stopped, Blaine starts running again. For a second, he lets go of Kurt's hand, and in that instant, he is flat on his back.

Kurt catches up and stands over him.

"Blaine! Blaine, are you alright?" Kurt's greeted with laughter.

"I'm brilliant. I'm absolutely brilliant," he yells, opening his mouth and sticking his tongue out wide to catch snowflakes. How does he go from being really sensitive and wise to acting like a toddler on crazy pills? Kurt doesn't mind, however. He finds the change endearing.

"Come lie with me." Kurt glances down at Blaine's wonderstruck face, and can't resist, no matter how much his $200 (and that was in the sale) pants protest.

"Fine, you goofball." Kurt lowers himself to the ground next to Blaine, careful to keep his bandages dry and out of the snow. Once down, he lines his head up with Blaine's. "Or should I say hobbit?" Kurt jokes, noticing how much longer his legs are compared to Blaine's.

"Shush you, meanie," Blaine retaliates, laughing. Kurt reaches his hand out to find Blaine's in the snow. When they touch, a spark jolts all the way through Kurt's body. Kurt's fingers curl around Blaine's and he smiles up at the stars and the moon. Thank you. This is perfect.

Kurt's starting to think that maybe, just maybe, he can cope with just being Blaine's friend if he gets to keep holding his hand, because when he does, it feels like suddenly, everything is okay again.

"How do you do it?" Kurt asks breathlessly.

"Do what?" Blaine replies, turning his head in the snow. "Snow in the ear, snow in the ear. Eurgh. Sorry, carry on."

"You dork. And er, make me happy," Kurt breathes out shakily. "I was sad, Blaine. I am sad. But then you do this, and I just forget about it all."

"Because I know what being in the snow at night feels like. It's ridiculously calming and easy to lose yourself in." Blaine pauses. "And because you're you, and I don't want you to be sad anymore."

In that moment, Kurt has never wanted to kiss anyone more. It takes every fiber in him to stop himself leaning over and placing his own lips on those bright red, chapped ones. Every. Single. Fiber.

"I promise," Blaine says quietly.

"Huh?" Kurt asks.

"I promise not to leave you, and I promise you make sure you always have someone to talk to."

Blaine really isn't making this whole just-friends-thing easy. Kurt is fighting with himself not to say something that he might regret. And the yes, kiss him now and live happily ever after with Blaine Devon Anderson part inside of him is winning.

"Maybe I should get you home," Blaine says, intercepting Kurt's internal conflict. "I'm sure your dad is worrying. It's half past nine."

"SHIT!" Kurt yells. "I said I'd be back before nine. Although, I wouldn't mind staying here with you forever." It slips out before he even has time to think about what it means. Not too blatantly obvious, Kurt. Well done.

"As much as I'd like that, we'd die of starvation if the wild squirrels didn't eat us first," Blaine replies, sitting up and bringing Kurt with him.

"Wild squirrels, you say?" Kurt jokes, as Blaine and he shake their heads to remove the excess snow, still gripping each others hands.

"Yes, that is what I say. Vicious, human-eating wild squirrels. We'd better run so they don't catch us." With that, Kurt and Blaine run from the corner of their field to the opposite side, over the broken wooden fence, and into the car, heaters on full. Kurt almost whines when Blaine's hand separates from his.

"Whooooooosh," Blaine says, spreading his hands in front of the heater.

"'m tired now," Kurt mumbles, rubbing his head against the seat.

"Then sleep, my starry friend."

"Shu'rup," Kurt yawns, succumbing to unconsciousness.

* * *

"Kurt. Wakey-up time, Kurt." Kurt feels his shoulder being shaken, but is enjoying his sleep too much to want to open his eyes. "Oi, you, sleepy-head. Get your, um, dreams, out of bed! That rhymed." Oh my God.

"'twas a rubbish poem, Devon. Don't bother becoming a poet," Kurt says sleepily, wiping his eyes. He's in his bed, staring at Blaine, who is on top of his bed.

"Actually, Elizabeth, I think it was great."

"What are you doing here?! What time is it? Why-what-how?" Kurt splutters.

"After our highly enjoyable snow adventures, you practically passed out in your passenger seat. So I had to ring your Dad, well actually Carole spoke to me, but anyway. That's irrelevant." Blaine shakes his head as he speaks. "She gave me directions here, and I was just going to drop you off, but they wouldn't let me walk home. It was like, ten or something, so they let me stay in the guest room. And because of my sins, they made me come wake you up, which apparently is never a fun job." Blaine doesn't stop for a breath the whole way through.

"Oh." How do you not remember any of that? "How did I get from the car to here?"

"I, er, I carried you in," Blaine says sheepishly, looking down at the floor.

"You carried me? Down the stairs and everything?" Blaine nods.

"You woke up after that, enough to put pajamas on and moisturize, but hey-ho. I wasn't going to wake you."

"Thank you, Blaine." Kurt leans forward and grabs Blaine's hand in his own. "For everything. Really."

"Honestly, it's no problem. I have one question though."

"Shoot."

"What did you punch?"

"Oh, yeah, that." Kurt holds his bandaged hand out in front of him. "The wall. A tiled wall, I might add. It hurt."

"I figured. Don't do that again, okay?" Blaine urges.

"Don't worry, I don't intend to," Kurt says, sighing.

"Hey you, don't sigh at me," Blaine giggles. "And okay, maybe not right now, but when you feel down, there are better ways to cope than to hurt yourself. Like ring me."

"I know, I don't know why I did it. I promise to ring you if I ever feel like it again."

"Good. Oh, and Burt told me to tell you that there's breakfast waiting for you."

"Mmmmmmmmmmm," Kurt mumbles. "'kay."

"And I, er, I've got to go to work. Sorry," Blaine says softly. He turns and starts to walk up the stairs.

"Wait. Blaine, wait." Kurt clambers out of bed and runs to Blaine, pulling him in for a hug. They stay like that for a little while, before Blaine backs away.

"Work, yeah, I know. Listen, tomorrow. What are you doing?"

Blaine glances down at his shoes, then smiles. "I'm at the coffee shop from eight through twelve, but after that, I'm free."

"Great. I'll pick you up, and then you can come over here. We can watch movies or something. I just want to see you again." Shit. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound weird."

"No, Kurt, not at all. I'd really like that, thank you. And I want to see you again too," Blaine says, smiling. He clambers up the stairs, then turns and yells from the top, "See you then."

"Not if I see you first!"

Fuck. Kurt Hummel is falling hard, and there is absolutely nothing he can do to stop it.


	6. Chapter Six

**I'm so extremely sorry for the wait, my life got in the way. This is shorter than usual but I'm working on the next chapter as we speak. Thank you for reading. (:**

* * *

"Kurt?"

"Er, no. It's Blaine."

Blaine has been leaves with rather an _interesting _dilemma after Kurt had promptly fallen very much asleep in the passenger side of his own car, leaving Blaine with no instructions on how to get to his house. In Blaine's eyes, there are two options. One, wake Kurt up and ask him how to get to his house; two, find someone in Kurt's phone to get directions from.

There is no way Blaine is waking Kurt up. Not a _chance._

So, albeit hesitantly and rather guiltily, Blaine unlocks Kurt's phone to find his contacts, when he stumbles across "Awesome Blaine". _Awesome Blaine? You're in Kurt's phone as Awesome Blaine. That's, that's pretty … awesome._

Smiling to himself, and listening to the soft sound of Kurt's unconscious breaths, he rifles through his sleepy friend's phone until he finds "Home" and presses ring. _What if they're all asleep and you wake them up? What if no one's in? What if they don't answer? What are you gonna do-_

"Kurt?" comes a woman's voice; hints of worry seeping through the mobile line.

That's how one Blaine Devon Anderson, lover of extortionate amounts of hair gel and goofy socks, finds himself talking to a woman he's never even _seen_ before on a phone that isn't hisat nine-forty in the evening.

"Oh, hi there Blaine. Is Kurt okay?" Blaine doesn't know the extent of his day Kurt wishes to disclose to his family, and he certainly isn't going to give away anything that he doesn't want them to know.

"Oh yeah, he's fine."

"Good. I'm Carole, by the way. Kurt's step-mom, although I'm sure he's already told you that," she says softly. Blaine can hear a deep voice in the background. _Kurt's dad?_

"Yes, yes he has."

"Hang on just one second," Carole says as she put the phone down. After a few minutes of tense waiting, the line comes back to life. "Blaine?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Good. Um, well, are you with Kurt? The thing is that he's supposed to at home right now. And he isn't." She doesn't sound accusatory, but there is a slight tone of wonder and perhaps desperation in her voice.

"Kurt's with me, yeah. That's why I rang. He fell asleep, and I don't know where he- _you_- live, and I want to get him home safely-"

"Oh thank _God_. Burt and I were starting to worry something had happened!" A pang of guilt starts to bubble up inside Blaine. "You need directions, honey?" _Honey. Your Mom doesn't even call you honey. She's really sweet. Okay. Breathe, Blaine. She's just a woman._

"Yes, as long as t-that's no problem," Blaine says, glancing out the window at the quick falling snow.

"None at all, love." Carole proceeds to give Blaine directions to their house, and makes him promise that he will call if he gets lost.

Blaine finds their house pretty easily, but the driving there is harder. The snow is getting thicker and thicker with every corner he turns, and although most of the roads have been gritted in preparation, it's still slippery out. Kurt, however, doesn't so much as stir the whole way home.

When Blaine pulls in the driveway, the front door of Kurt's lovely and very homely-looking house flies open. He parks the car outside their door, and gets out. Before he can introduce himself, a woman (presumably Carole) rushes forward and speaks, stopping at the edge of their paved area.

"Blaine?" He nods. "Hi, I'm Carole." _So that's his step-mom, where's his dad?_

"It's good to meet you, Mrs. Hummel. I'm sure that it'd be best for me to help Kurt in, then I'll be off."

"Carole? Who's this?" A man's voice sounds from behind her.

"It's Blaine, Kurt's friend. He drove him home because Kurt fell asleep," she explains, smiling. Blaine looks up to the sky at the still-falling snow, and then motions to the car.

"I'm gonna bring Kurt in now. He's downstairs, yeah?" Carole nods, and goes back inside. Blaine sighs, and unlocks the passenger side door. He unbuckles Kurt, and whispers, "Let's get you inside, nice and cozy." He's warm and pliant under Blaine's hands, which are moving him around gently. Slowly, Blaine reaches around Kurt until he has a firm grip under his knees and a strong hold on his back. To be doubly sure, he tucks his hand under Kurt's right arm, and places the other one around his own neck. "Don't you be waking up now, Mister Hummel," Blaine jokes half-heartedly.

Before he moves them both inside, Blaine takes a good look at Kurt. He's been through so much, today alone. It is so amazingly unfair that he has to deal with such a high level of prejudice on a day-to-day basis just because some idiots can't handle his sexuality. For one, it doesn't make any sense because Kurt would never do anything to them; Blaine knows that as well as anyone with half a brain. Also, it's hurtful to have to look after Kurt when he gets upset (like he did earlier). Not because he is a pain or a chore; Blaine will never see him as that, but because a boy as sweet, as caring as Kurt is victimized every single day for something he can't change, something that is a fundamental part of himself. Blaine understands the feeling of not fitting anywhere, as before Dalton he'd truly experienced being shunned from every social group. In a way, he feels thankful that he was beaten up because it got him out of there. He never would've been able to move if it hadn't have reached such a climax. His parents never would've allowed it. _It's sick that you think that, don't be thankful for being beaten up. You deserved it anyway. _

Once again, Blaine's thoughts become too much and he shakes his head, as if that will help to rid them. _It doesn't. _

Blaine bends his legs and braces himself as he picks Kurt up, and slowly maneuvers him out of the car. He's light and airy. _And perfect_.

He makes his way over to the door and goes in, steadily wiping his shoes on the mat. From the door, he turns into the kitchen and walks by Carole and her husband (_obviously Kurt's dad_), who are stood with their mouths open.

"Is it this way?" Blaine asks, nodding his head towards a corridor just past the kitchen. Carole nods wordlessly, and Burt walks over, holding it open for him. "Thank you Mister Hummel," Blaine says, smiling.

He navigates the two of them down the stairs carefully, awing at the sensational décor that Kurt has obviously picked out for his basement bedroom. At the foot of the stairs is a double bed with immaculate white sheets. _Looks a bit like your house. _Blaine puts Kurt down on the bed with little trouble (he's _so_ light!), and then pulls his boots off. At the bottom of the bed is a blanket which Blaine pulls out from under Kurt's feet and places over him, smiling. _He looks so calm when he sleeps, so trouble less and … free. _

Blaine is glad that Kurt hasn't had any nightmares (yet). He is probably too exhausted to even dream at all. _Good. _

Blaine leaves the room quietly. In the kitchen, he is met with the stares of one angry looking Burt Hummel. Carole is sat next to him at their breakfast bar, smiling.

"Kurt's sleeping," Blaine starts, unsure of how to continue. "Er, it is lovely meeting you both, but I'd better be off. I-If you could tell Kurt to ring me tomorrow, if he wants of course, then that'd be g-great. B-bye-"

"Stop." Burt stands up and walks towards Blaine. "Do you want to explain to me why Kurt's late home? It's not like him to ignore curfew." His tone isn't threatening or accusatory, simply questioning. _And kinda scary. _

"He comes babysitting with me, and when I was driving him home-"

"Wait, why are _you _driving my son's car?" _Uh-oh. _

"It isn't my place to tell you that, sir. It's Kurt's." Burt makes a semi-grunt noise, and shakes his head.

"Fine. I'll ask him tomorrow. That doesn't explain why you're late though. Unless you drive slower than Kurt, that is."

"No, I don't drive slowly, sir. I mean- I stick to the limits and don't go through red lights. Or amber ones or-" _Oh my God Blaine, shut up. What are you talking about? _

"Okay, okay. You're a safe driver. But you're late because…" Burt says, chuckling slightly.

"We got a little distracted on the way home." It comes out of Blaine's mouth before he even realizes what he's just said.

"You got what?" Burt thunders, stepping closer to Blaine. "If you've done anything inappropriate with my son, _in a car_, young man, I will become your worst-"

"We don't, I don't, we- no. Sir, I meant that we pulled over for a while and got distracted by the snow," Blaine corrects hurriedly. Burt seems to visibly relax. "We, no- I will never think of doing anything of that nature with Kurt. He's my b-best friend." Blaine has never said that to Kurt, or even thought it before, but the words escape his mouth before he can stop them. When he thinks about it, he realizes how true it is. Kurt _is_ his best friend.

"Right. Got it. Sorry," he says.

"My fault, sir," Blaine says, staring at his damp shoes. There's an awkward silence which Blaine breaks by heading towards the front door.

"Hold up, how are you getting home?"

"Um, I-I'm, er, walking," Blaine says as he turns around to face Burt again, feeling his ears redden.

"Walking? Kurt tells me you go to Dalton, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"And you live near there too?" Carole walks over and places a hand around Burt's middle.

"I do, sir."

"Well, that's settled then. You're not walking that far tonight at this hour, or in this weather. Can your folks come fetch you?"

"I, they- no, they can't."

"Right. Okay. We've got a spare room and there are sweatpants you can borrow. As long as your folks are okay with that," Burt says.

"He's right. I don't think it's safe out there for you if you are driving, let alone walking. Stay the night, okay?" Carole adds.

"I can't do that, I don't want to be of any trouble to anyone. I walk most places so it's no big deal. I appreciate the offer, I really do, but it's not necessary. Thank you; I hope to see you soon." Blaine once again makes for the door, getting so close as to touch the handle this time.

"Blaine, stop," Carole commands softly as she moves to stand behind him. "You're no hassle to us. In fact, you'd be a bigger problem if you left because we'd both be worried about you." She places a hand on Blaine's arm, and smiles warmly at him. "Hey, think about Kurt. I know for sure that he won't want you cold and wet and alone in the dark, will he?"

Reluctantly, Blaine turns around. "No, I guess he won't."

"Right, that's settled then. You can stay in our spare room tonight and tomorrow, I can take you home or wherever it is you need to be. _Or_," Burt adds, seeing Blaine's open mouth about to interrupt, "you can walk. Whatever suits you best."

"Thank you, sir. This is very kind of you, I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it kid." Burt takes one last look at Blaine, then stands up and leaves the room. Carole puts her hands on both of his arms and squeezes.

"Let's get you something to wear in bed, yeah?" Blaine nods and yawns. He hasn't realized how tired he is. "There's a toothbrush somewhere, and the fridge is over there if you need anything to eat," Carole says, even though she knows that Blaine won't take anything from it.

A little while later, Blaine is lying in bed, complete with clean teeth, some of Finn's old sweatpants and a hoodie, and a very tired body. He's just stretching out his legs when there's a knock at the door. A mumbled "yeah" later and Carole appears, poking her head through the gap.

"I just wanted to say thank you for getting Kurt home to us, it is a real nice thing you did. Oh, and he woke up a few minutes back to change and moisturize?" Carole raises her hands in a questioning motion and smiles at him in disbelief. "Trust Kurt to do that," she laughs and Blaine smiles. It sure sounds a lot like Kurt. "He's out of it again now, but anyway, sleep well Blaine." She gives him an awkward half-wave from the door, and slowly backs out, shutting the door slowly.

Long after she's gone and the house is silent (except from the occasional snore from somewhere along the corridor), Blaine is lying awake, thinking about his own parents.

They aren't great parents, if he's honest. Seeing how protective and caring Burt and Carole are makes something inside Blaine tense up a little. He has been given anything he's wanted as a child and as a teenager, but in the end, he guesses that it doesn't really count for much.

Not when he isn't given love.

When Blaine finally manages to fully open his eyes the next morning, he winces. The sun is shining brightly through the curtains next to his bed, and he quickly startles. _Kurt's house. You're in Kurt's house. _His sleep has been unsettled and choppy, thoughts and feelings of anger and hatred rattling around his head. His parents know a lot about both of those emotions.

Sounds flutter in underneath his doorway, so Blaine rolls out of bed after rubbing the backs of his hands across his bleary eyes. He changes quickly into his clothes from yesterday and makes the bed, placing his borrowed sweatpants and hoodie onto the bed, both neatly folded.

Ten minutes later, he is hooked up with coffee and two slices of toast (with raspberry jam of course), all courtesy of the lovely Carole. She's flicking through a gossip magazine when Burt appears, rubbing at his eyes.

"Good morning, Blaine."

"Morning, Mister Hummel," Blaine replies, staring intently at his mug.

"Did you sleep okay?" Carole asks, going to give her husband a kiss.

"Yeah, I did," he lies. "Thank you for letting me stay, I really appreciate it." Carole tells him that it is more than okay and Burt just kinda _stares. _

"Carole, I think Finn's calling you."

"I don't hear him," she says, oblivious. Burt gives her a look and she smiles. "Oh right, yeah. I'll just be leaving…" she says as she exits the kitchen.

"So Blaine, I just wanted to talk to you for a moment." Blaine's heart starts pumping double time and he tightens his hold on the coffee cup in front of him.

"Sure."

"Is Kurt, y'know, is he okay?" Blaine smiles up at Burt, and he feels his heart clench. Here is Kurt's dad asking his son's friend if he is alright, when his own dad hasn't asked him that question in many months.

"He will be, I'm sure. I don't want to say anything that could breach his trust, sir, but I think he'll be okay." Blaine smiles, and picks at his toast.

"Good." There's a pause, and then, "You're a good kid, Blaine. Kurt's found himself a good friend." Blaine just smiles. In his eyes, that is the highest form of compliment.

Carole returns and between the three of them, somehow it is decided that Blaine is to wake Kurt up. He laughs as he opens the door and Burt yells "Good luck!" to his disappearing figure.

After waking him up and making arrangements to meet Kurt the next day, he starts to wonder how he is going to get to work. He's missed his daily run this morning, so maybe he can jog?

"Blaine, you need taking home?" Blaine hasn't even realized that Burt is stood with him in the kitchen.

"Er, no thank you. I've got to be at work in half an hour, so I'd best be getting off." It suddenly hits him that he has no idea how to get to work from the Hummel's house.

"Let me take you, okay? Where do you work today?" Blaine realizes that Kurt must've told his dad about Blaine's multiple jobs. Something hot and heavy shoots through his chest, just as Burt turns to pick his car keys up from the countertop.

"At the toy store in the shopping mall in Lima, WhizzToys?"

"That's barely ten minutes in the car, c'mon."

"I appreciate it, sir, but it's not necessary-"

"Shut up and get in the car, kid."

Blaine does a six hour shift at the toy store, and then goes babysitting for another two. When he gets home at 8:30, his dad is waiting for him.

"Blaine, you missed the charity gala last night. You don't come home all night long." _Shit. _Blaine is in serious trouble. His dad is yelling at him. "Where the fuck were you?"

Blaine starts to go up the stairs. He just wants to sleep now. "I was at a friend's house. They didn't want me to walk home in the snow."

"Get back down here, boy!" Blaine obeys, standing a few feet away from his father. "What, not enough of a man to walk a few miles now?"

"It's fifteen miles from his house. I would've walked but they didn't want me to." Blaine sighs, and steps a little further away.

"It's not good enough, Blaine. Not good enough. But then, you'd know all about that, won't you?" His father steps right in front of him and Blaine almost chokes on the stench of alcohol.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You will be. Get out of my sight, you worthless piece of shit." Blaine nods and starts to climb the stairs. Suddenly, something grabs his foot and he falls flat on his face. From behind him, his father chuckles.

"There's plenty more where that comes from."

Blaine doesn't even look back, he just runs. He doesn't even reach his room before the panic attack hits, freezing his limbs and causing his heart to race. As he staggers into his room, his whole body aches from the force of the fall. Somehow, he manages to shut the door and collapse against it. Placing his head between his knees, he starts to cry.

_If only my dad was more like Burt Hummel. _

Kurt texts him just as his shift is ending at the coffee shop, saying he is waiting outside to pick him up. Jen, the owner, has asked him if he is okay two or three times. He smiles and says that he is fine, but his pained expressions every time he stretches in the wrong way doesn't agree. His ribs are bruised and achy, but on the whole, he is okay. _It could've been so much worse. _

After Blaine has finished working and has returned his name badge to the drawer, Jen waves him off and Kurt is, as he says, waiting.

"Hey you," he greets.

"Hi," Blaine replies as Kurt pulls him into a tight hug. His hands squeeze Blaine's chest, pressing right on his bruises. "Ah shit."

Kurt stands back quickly, concern written all over his face. "What did I do?"

"Nothing, I'm just a little sore." Kurt continues to look puzzled, but Blaine can't think of an explanation.

"Why?" _Dammit. _

"Must've pulled something, I guess. I'm fine." _Stupid excuse. _

"As long as you're sure," Kurt replies, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards his car. "Let's go watch some cheesy movies, yeah?"

"Yeah," Blaine says, his mind wandering all over the place.

"Are you good for coming over after school on Tuesday?" Kurt asks hopefully. They'd spent the day watching Disney films and joking around. Kurt hadn't mentioned the earlier moment, thankfully.

"I can't, I'm sorry. I'm working," Blaine whispers.

"Okay," Kurt replies, thinking of ways to get around the problem. "How about Wednesday? Thursday?"

"I can only do Wednesdays after I've finished babysitting, which will be at about nine or ten. Thursday's the same." Kurt stops flicking at his iPhone and looks over to Blaine, who is sat on the edge of his bed, picking at the end of his jumper sleeve.

"Right. If you don't want to come over Blaine, that's fine but -"

"Of course I do! Of course. I'm just really busy."

"You do?" Kurt asks shyly.

"Yeah, don't be silly," Blaine says quietly, glancing up at Kurt. Blaine is surprised to find Kurt looking at him intensely, as if he is trying to figure something out. "You alright?"

"No. How much do you work Blaine?"

"W-What?"

"When, exactly, do you work?" Kurt replies, not letting his gaze drop.

"Er, quite often? I don't know."

"Exactly how much is quite often?"

There's a pause before Blaine opens his mouth hesitantly and whispers, "Every day."

"Oh my God." Blaine cuts him off before he can continue.

"I mean, it's nothing bad. I just help out Jen, who owns Cafetière, at lunchtime, and I cover for people in WhizzToys in the evening, then I babysit after that too." Kurt stands up. "It's nothing, really."

"Blaine, that's insane. What, I mean, how…" He trails off. "You don't drive either, right?" Blaine nods, looking at the floor. "And the when do you even eat, or do schoolwork, or _sleep_?" Blaine silences him by standing up and pulling him over. "What's going on with you, Blaine?"

"Alright, alright, alright. I'll tell you everything about my 'schedule'," he says, making air quotes. "Only if you promise not to freak out though."

"I'll try."

"Good. Now, sit," he instructs, pushing Kurt down onto the bed, then sitting beside him. "Well, where am I supposed to start?"

"Er, how about how you got your jobs?"

"Sure. Right. Well, I've been babysitting since I was like fourteen, ever since I was old enough. You get friendly with people and they trust you, so it's hard to just stop. Plus, I wanted some independence, y'know?" Kurt doesn't know, but he nods. He's always been very lucky with his dad in that he has never particularly _wanted _much. All the designer clothes he has are either gifts or paid for out of his savings (something his dad isn't all too pleased about, but he understands nonetheless). From the size of his house, Blaine doesn't need any money. It's strange. Kurt hopes that it will all become clearer in Blaine's explanation.

"Cafetière is owned by a really sweet woman called Jen who couldn't handle the workload when she first opened up about a year-and-a-half ago. I offered my help one weekend, and next thing I know, I've got a job."

"That's very kind of you," Kurt says truthfully. It's exactly fitting with everything he thinks of Blaine - selfless, caring and just plain _nice_.

"Just putting myself to some use, I s'pose. The toystore, WhizzToys, whatever you wanna call it, I just thought it'd be a fun thing to do. I went for an interview and a few days later, I started work there. Again, they've only just opened so they need all the help they can get, especially since it's the holiday season."

"Well, you've certainly gets charm, Devon," Kurt jokes in an attempt to lighten the situation. Kurt doesn't like the sound of where this is going so far.

"Merci beaucoup, monsieur Elizabeth." Silence falls between them; both boys looking down at the floor. Blaine wishes the floor would swallow him up whole so he doesn't have to reveal the truth to Kurt. He knows it is coming, he just knows it. That, however, doesn't mean he is going to like telling him. _He's never told anyone before. _

"Okay, next question. Why _three _jobs? And the truth this time, not the censored version."

"I told you already. I like making people happy and I like seeing them smile." Blaine can feel himself squirming.

"Sure, fine, okay." Maybe Kurt will drop it. Blaine lets out the breath he doesn't know he's been holding in. "But that doesn't drive you to get three jobs."

"Apparently it does," Blaine replies. He takes one look at Kurt and knows this isn't over. Damn.

"I'm not trying to fight with you Blaine, I just want to make sure that you're okay and you're not overexerting yourself," Kurt says soothingly; voice a lot softer than before.

"I'm fine."

"Good. Just, you know that if there is a reason, other than the smile-lover one, you can tell me. I'm not going to judge you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"So there is? I mean, is there an actual reason?" Kurt somehow can't fathom that for Blaine, this subject is particularly hard.

"What if there is?" Blaine shouts, startling Kurt.

"Blaine-"

"What if there is an awful reason, a reason that I've never told anybody before?" Blaine says, whispering the last part.

"You know I'm here, Blaine," Kurt says quietly. "I'll listen to whatever you want to tell me." He wants to reach over and hold Blaine's hand or just _do _something to physically reassure him, but he doesn't feel like Blaine will appreciate that right now.

Blaine, meanwhile, is desperate. He needs something to ground him; any second now he is going to explode and tell Kurt. He can't do that. He won't. Memories of all the times his father has gotten drunk and hit him start replaying in his head; all the times his mother has just sat and watched are projecting in front of him as though he is watching a biopic of his life at the movies.

"Blaine?" Kurt whispers, worried about his friend's current rigid state. His eyes are glazed over and Kurt doesn't know how to help. "Talk to me." When he still doesn't respond, Kurt reaches forward slowly and grips Blaine's hand (which is holding Kurt's sheets so tightly that his knuckles are white). Immediately, Blaine's eyes drop down to their connected hands and he seems to struggle breathing for a second. "What's happening?"

Blaine just shakes his head and moves his hand from under Kurt's. He stands up and walks over to Kurt's dresser. Once there, he studies his face in the mirror. He looks the same as he always does. Blaine had expected there to be some kind of ugly mess staring back at him. _No. That's just how you feel. _

"Did I say something wrong?" Kurt asks innocently. "Do you want me to leave you-"

"No." The answer is so quick that Kurt hasn't even finished talking. "Don't leave, please, don't leave me alone."

"I'm not going anywhere." _What is happening to him right now? He was so composed a few minutes ago, and now, well I don't think he's even _here _anymore. _"I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I can't-"

"Come here," Kurt says, patting the space next to him on the bed. Blaine walks slowly over, and sits. His shoulders are tense and his hands are scrunched into fists. "Talk to me, Blaine. What's wrong?"

"Kurt," Blaine breathes, holding on to the sob fighting its way out of his chest. "Kurt, I can't-"

"Try. Please, try for me," he begs, staring straight into Blaine's eyes.

"You don't understand."

"Help me to," Kurt whispers.

"I can't-"

"Don't shut yourself off Blaine, not now."

Blaine squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes his head. "I'm not trying to, I promise. This is just, I just, it's a lot."

Kurt sighs, but nods anyway. "I know, I know."

Blaine looks away, desperately hoping that Kurt can't see the tears pooling in his eyes. Breathing becomes really hard really quickly, and his chest starts to tighten. Feelings of extreme panic and a lack of control flood his mind, and everything seems to shut down. _Not now, please. Not now. _

"Blaine? Blaine, breathe," Kurt says, rubbing his back. "Look at me. Look right at me, nowhere else." He obeys, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. "Breathe with me."

After five minutes or so, Blaine's breathing is more even and manageable. Not perfect, but better. Kurt's hand is still resting on his back and he uses it to pull Blaine closer.

"I'm not going to make you talk about it, okay?" Blaine nods, his head coming into contact with Kurt's chest. "I'm here for you, don't forget that." Kurt kisses the top of his head, and smiles down sadly at the boy currently falling apart in his very lap. "Anytime, anyplace, you ring me and I'll be there." Blaine doesn't say anything, he just cries a little harder.


End file.
